Wednesday, 3 June 2015

"Once In A Lifetime..."

"And you may ask yourself What is that beautiful house? 
And you may ask yourself 
Where does that highway go to? 
And you may ask yourself 
Am I right?...Am I wrong? 
And you may say to yourself yourself 
My God!...What have I done?! "

Okay, so it's been a while.  Fine...a long, long while since I've posted.  I could lie and say that I've been 'too busy' (true, but not valid), or that I have been too despondent (getting closer to the truth), or that we've been so preoccupied with moving into our new home that we simply haven't had time for creative pursuits (downright bollocks - there IS NO new house dammit).

Ah, and there's the rub.  "THE HOUSE" situation.  Or rather, the utter lack thereof.  There is no house and I can't even imagine there ever being a house for us lot.  True dat.

I'm not used to losing...but maybe I should start getting used to it.  It would make my current life more habitable emotionally.  For you see, starting from January 2014 it feels like we've (barely) survived one loss after another.  Let me explain:

January 2014 saw us returning back from a lovely sojourn in Goa.  It also saw us missing our flight back to London due to being ensconced in a 5* still-under construction Mumbai hospital en famille, as little Squit (nearly two at the time) almost lost his pinkie finger due to an accident in the airport involving a heavy cement door.  Nightmare.  After an emergency nail-biting operation followed by a few days convalescing in a private room (during which the husband slept with the baby in his hospital bed, I crashed on the couch, and the other two shared the other hospital bed), we were finally ready to head back home.  But not before a middle of the night theft (we suspect the male nurse) of all cash from the husbands wallet, several group selfies from various members of staff (including surgeons) who kept up a constant stream of visitation and insisted on getting their picture with our fat blond baby in a cast, and countless reruns of 'Vampire Diaries' whilst we gorged on takeaways and tried to figure out the 'hot water running times' for our private shower.

But I digress.  Thankfully Squit got to keep his finger (very close call), and my penance for not having anticipated this spontaneous near-amputation was to be months of doctors visits in hospital and two additional surgeries.

However that wasn't the only thing lost that trip.  En route through security at the airport, Egg somehow managed to lose his best friend in the world...his treasured teddy bear 'Bacon' who he has literally had since birth and spent every day/night of his life with (aside from Bacon's few month sojourn in Florida when he was accidentally left at Grandpa's after a visit).  It was only as we wearily waited to board that Egg sat upright and started screaming.  I thought he'd been burnt or something, but he'd realised that Bacon was missing and he had no idea where he was.
last sighting of Bacon in Mumbai airport :(

What followed suit was a panicked race through the sprawling Mumbai airport (the husband and Egg going one way and me the other - leaving 7 year old Dumpie to fend for himself with all our luggage), begging airport officials and staff to look in 'lost and found' for us.  We should have realised: India ain't so big on 'lost and found' for the simple matter that whatever is misplaced will no doubt be fingered thankfully by a lowly-paid worker, assuming it to be a gift from the gods.  I mean, who wouldn't?

So long story short, Bacon was never found, and our family grieved (truthfully, i'm still grieving...on Egg's behalf) as a piece of his heart and his history went 'bye-bye's' forever.  (I must interject here and possibly apologise for the look of pure hatred and puzzlement I shot the husband - no doubt accompanied by some choice swear words - when he and Egg finally raced over to board at the last minute, Egg clutching this god awful gigantic powder blue bear the husband had insisted he buy 'as a replacement'(!?).  It has long since gone, and now with time I see what the husband way trying to do, but at the time I was like, WTF?!
Egg isn't the only one who misses Bacon :(

Anyway, all last year was spent trying to sell our current home and buy a bigger one.  How bloody boring and middle class I know (so pathetic compared to our goals of 2009/2010: to compose an album each and write our respective novels whilst taking a 1.5 year long sabbatical to the Far East).

But guess what?  We failed.  Spectacularly I might add.  In fact, truth be told, I am still so annoyed by my total waste of 2014, that I simply couldn't bear to write my blog and have to regularly face up to what a complete waste my everyday life was - consumed with the never-ending Herculean task of prepping for constant viewings - and how badly I was failing at such an important task (for our rambunctious three-boy family already spilling out the sides of our now painfully too small three bed flat).  So I didn't.  And that, Dear Readers (are there any of you left I wonder?...) is the bona fide reason my once bubbling along blog has sunk into the quagmire and been left to stagnate indefinitely.

Ah, but what is this then you ask?  "Moaning Mum" raising her world-weary head and taking a new look around and realising that yes, we buggered things up spectacularly last year, but gosh darn it we're all still fairly healthy and definitely still alive, and should shut the heck up because we are 'the lucky ones'.  (In recent months, our lives have been punctuated by the loss of more than a few beloved souls of friends/family and there is nothing like the rude shock of death and disease to transform your bitter heart into a thankful one.)  Okay sermon over.

So here I am, it's a sunny day, my lovely Hungarian builder is downstairs repainting our entranceway in shiny bright white, and we have today slashed a great giant chunk off of our previous asking price and are re-listing our well-loved home at rock bottom prices people.

And so it all begins again...(sigh)...though with double stamp duty, a massive increase in price of local real estate since we started this whole process (ours excepted), and brutally aware that are lives are now again going to revolve around constant subterfuge involving our bursting at the seams possessions being shoved last minute into drawers/under sofas/squeezed into our already crammed camper van parked round the corner (aka 'our spare room', as it can't even be used for transport it's so damn full) does rather make one want to stick one's newly appreciative head into a bright pink Aga.

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