Monday, July 23, 2007


The burnt-out flat is just horrendous; sewage pipes have melted and it's all been pushing up out of Amazon's toilet! So, beside the floors being squishy with water, there's also sewage soaked into the hall carpet; though the only smell is the smoke, but it is all disgusting. I spent an hour clearing one sofa on Friday afternoon; filled five huge, extra-strong, black bags with what can only be termed as rubbish now. MY BOOKS! I photographed a selection of burnt and soaked books for insurance; in one there's probably over £100 worth. I'll post some photos as soon as I can get them re-sized, maybe tomorrow after the interview.

I took a few CDs back with me and they've stunk out my bedroom in Musician's flat! I'll wipe them with strong-smelling lemon cleaner and hopefully the stink will fade.

I spoke to one old lady who lives above Amazon; what a crabbit old bitch! She moaned and complained about how the housing association has taken so long to do this and that, even though she had demanded that they complete the work and make her place the way it was before; I reminded her that my daughter had lost everything and she acted as if I was invisible and was just a wall for her words to bounce off! The burglars had stolen a few electrical goods from her but she still had her home - stupid old biddy. I was so mad I froze and refused to speak or look at her. I just waited for my taxi and leapt as it turned the corner. Some people are thick as yoghurt.

I was supposed to return today and clear out some more, but I just couldn't make myself do it - I'll go tomorrow morning then can have a lovely bath when I finish. I wanted to do a lot for Amazon because she has had the horror of the initial loss, but now she's had a riotus party holiday in Ibiza, she can do some of the work when she gets back.

I noticed that quite a lot of my stuff had been piled on Power Ranger's bed; I won't go through that till maybe next week - it's not in the way of the workmen at the moment, it can wait. I rescued quite a few packets of photos from the 'mire' of the living room, and know that there is more somewhere in there. I can't bear the thought of my beautiful scrapbooks in there; I don't know where they are!

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