annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Day 168

I did the first part of the form-filling with Grandson, to claim his inheritance. It was gruelling, to say the least. I'd managed to get myself into a state of high anxiety about having helped myself to money out of Sam's account (well, the account in my name which her money was paid into as she couldn't manage it), but when I looked at it, actually logged into the account, it was about £20. I'd borrowed and paid back loads, as had Daughter, but in the end it was nothing in the scheme of things. Ex son-in-law is the one who needs a smack, He sold her car, presumably by faking her signature on the log book, and kept the money and said she had no jewellery or anything of that nature. When I collected her from the first care home to move her down here she had no handbag, purse, phone or jewllery, nothing, just her clothes and a handful of CDs. The whole thing was so difficult that none of this occurred to me till months if not years later. When I saw SIL at the hospice in 2017 and asked him about her stuff, he said there was nothing of hers at home and it all seemed pointless, to worry about a few bits and pieces, though I knew she hadn't taken everything when she left home, as it was me who moved her then as well. 

Anyway. We reached the end of what we could do, me and GS, at which point I had a quick row with Daughter, left in a huff and drove to the lagoon to walk along the seafront. As I did I realised that this is where I'm going to do the sponsored walk, this is my place and this is where I want to live. I want to live in Hove, have a beach hut and swim in the sea every day. I'd say Brighton, but there's nowhere close to the sea front that I'd like to live whereas Hove, adjoining, has loads of great places to live - my beautiful flat was in Hove, just over the boundary. They blend - they are the city of Brighton and Hove and I don't care. So my new affirmation is "I live in Hove near the seafront. I have a beach hut and I swim every day." You wait and see, this will happen. 

Why do I like it? Well, I blend in for starters. Loads of people my age look like me, dress like me, behave like me. We're still up for it. Ach, it's my home, it's where I should be and where I will be. 

I walked from the lagoon to the West Pier and back, 5.2 miles and it was OK. Took me ages, but I did stop a few times, once for a chat, once for a coffee, and once for some smoked mackerel pate from a shack on the beach. Two weeks till the walk - I'll be doing seven miles no sweat by then. 

Daughter and I made friends again via text within the hour. We're both tired and finding it hard. Not to mention over-sensitive. 

Bloke cooked dinner, some veggie thing with split peas, from his new Middle Eastern vegetarian cookbook. He used the split peas I'd used as baking beans (where you cook pastry and weigh it down to stop it puffing up, ready to put a filling in), which were in an unmarked glass jar. They'd been baked in the oven many times. He insisted they'd be fine, and to be fair they did soften a bit, but not enough. You had to chew and chew and chew, and even then they were still bits rather than mush. I ate a few mouthfuls but left the rest and he ate a whole plateful. I predict shocking indigestion before morning. 

1:05 a.m. - 30.08.20

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