Tag Archive | renting

Grumbles

Just a quick (ok less quick as it turns out) grumble. I’m still clearing out our old house and trying to clean the darn thing.

We have had the de-humidifier going non-stop for three weeks, and some of the more disgusting black mold has disappeared, but I just feel incensed that we have had to live in these awful places, and that our scumbag landlord would add insult to repeated injury by turfing us out on our ear for profit.

I sat in the garden yesterday, looking at the beautiful view of fields and the sea, and just wept thinking about the place we are moving to, with a sorry excuse for a tiny garden with 6 foot high fences and a view of a shed. Ok, we’re escaping the mold, and our tenancy should be safer now as it’s no longer private renting, but it’s not a clear improvement by any means.

My mum keeps calling to say first one day that she’s desperately unhappy and can’t cope with living alone and wants to come and live with us (so can we get the ‘spare’ room ready for her), and then the next day that she doesn’t want to leave London and would rather live near my brother. I’m sure she can’t help it, but it’s relentless and feels like emotional torture.

Also, about three weeks ago I wrote to the Church hierarchy with an update confirming that, after my year of waiting, I was still interested in ordination. I still have yet to receive any kind of acknowledgement at all despite specifically requesting one. In the meantime, I sent details of an online course to the same person that I thought might be interesting. Bearing in mind that I wasn’t asking for the church to pay for the course, the fact that I received a very terse response “NO” within five minutes felt like a big slap in the face with a wet fish.

Frankly, I’m no longer sure that I want to be connected with an organisation that treats people so rudely.

And then finally, and no doubt due to the amount of stress I’ve been under, I’m experiencing what feels like the beginning of another relapse – all my lymph nodes are swollen, my throat is sore, my head, back, neck and spine are tender and my arms and legs are achy and weak, so I am having to take it easy and move slowly to hopefully ward it off. Last night I went to bed around 9pm, slept round the clock, and woke up with a migraine. The washing, and washing up are piling up around me and I can’t do anything about it.

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Twisty-turny Lifey-wifey

2015 is not shaping up to be all I hoped it would be so far.

2015

Firstly, I was not able to go ahead with the next OU module due to a funding error. The same funding error that Student Finance England promised me was sorted out in September. So now I have lost a whole year’s worth of study. I’m beginning to feel that perhaps I’m not destined to study with the OU.

Then the Ministry course that was being run in North Cornwall, for 28 churches, was cancelled because only 3 people (myself and my eldest son included) had signed up for it. Out of 28 churches. Yes, you read that right. Spirit of Apathy, anyone?

And then, this week, just in time for Lent, we have been served with an eviction notice. Our Landlord – the one who has delayed and prevaricated and refused to pay for repairs for the entire time we have lived here – has decided to sell the house, and that it will sell more quickly empty. Charming. (Now that he’s evicted us, he’s decided to actually replace the boiler.)

I wonder whether there are any nice, kind, honourable landlords. And then I remember being a landlord. We thought we were nice, kind and honourable. But we were also appallingly naive.

Because we knew the tenants, and they were down on their luck, we didn’t take a deposit. We set our rent at a level just enough to pay our mortgage so that we could rent elsewhere, not a penny of profit. We left the house in an outstanding condition – better than we had ever had it while we lived there.

But our tenants, when he lost his job, rather than contacting us to let us know they were having trouble, just stopped paying rent. From October to May, we had no rental income. Our actual income was so low that we didn’t have money for food. we literally didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. We were forced to evict our tenants. It felt awful.

Our tenants never contacted us, they just skipped town owing us thousands and thousands of pounds.

When we went back to our house, we were astounded at what they had done to it. They had utterly ruined our family home, short of setting it on fire, they had done everything they possibly could to make it unliveable, and it was covered in thick, black ooze from chain-smoking. Their poor kids. It didn’t get like that overnight – they must have lived like that for months.

As we were penniless by that stage, we had no choice but to sell it, at a loss, barely covering our debts and the deposit for this house.

This time round, we have no savings, no way of raising a deposit for a new house, and strangely we find that landlords and letting agents don’t like people who rely on housing benefit to boost the pay their pitifully low income to pay the rent.

We are in the unenviable position (as so many thousands in this country are) of being totally at the mercy of merciless landlords, in a merciless society.

I wonder what happened to our tenants, where they went, who would possibly have taken them on.

I was angry with our tenants for a long, long time. How could they have been so cruel to us when we were so good to them?

And then I remember that he was an adult adoptee, abandoned in the ’50s with no knowledge of his parentage, and estranged from his adoptive family. I remember that he was depressed already when they moved in. And I wish I had tried harder to help them. (Even though I still wish they hadn’t taken it out on us.)

I’ve been surrounded by rich Christians all my life. In fact, I was one of them. I grew up in a reasonably wealthy family. We owned our own home in a nice neighbourhood, we wanted for nothing, really. But my family’s fortunes changed a long time ago, and it has been downhill ever since.

But not one time in all our crises have we ever been offered financial help, practical assistance, or even emotional reassurance from the Church. If there’s one thing that makes me more angry than anything else it is that. The Church at least should be a haven of mercy.

timey

The title of this post refers, of course, to Doctor Who, and wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey things. Life is so twisty-turny and unpredictable. It seems that nothing is guaranteed, nothing in this life can be relied upon.

If I could go back in time, to a better part of my life – when things were less complicated – when would I go to? If you’ve seen the film ‘About Time’, you’ll know that you can’t go back beyond the birth of your children, so I think I would choose to go back to the day my youngest was born, before everything went wrong.

And I’d do things differently.