home stuff/moaning about mother

Things are feeling more and more settled.  All of our units are tenanted (yay!) so we don’t even have to think about them.  Our house is slowly (very slowly) getting back to a habitable state.  For example, I have an oven!!  It’s not installed; it’s currently sitting on the floor in the family room.  But at least it’s in the house.  If I’m lucky, and play my cards right, SO may even install it sometime today.

The laundry situation is under control, the bathrooms have been cleaned, and the sheets on the bed are fresh.  The kitchen is also reasonably neat and tidy.  All in all, it’s starting to feel more like a home, and less like a dump we have to live in for protection from the elements.

There are other signs life is becoming more calm and regular, such as my increased interest in cooking.  I find that when I’m tired, stressed, and the place is a mess, the very last thing I want to do is cook.  Lots of time and effort for temporary gain, plus the production of more dishes to wash, are the major cons against cooking.  However, I was at the local shops yesterday and noticed vine-ripened tomatoes for $10 a box.  I immediately starting thinking of buying a box to make some napolitana sauce. 

I’ve been looking around for a good recipe, and this one seems to tick all the boxes.  As I read through it, though, I noticed a reference to pomarola sauce, which seems like a richer version of the same thing.  So I’ve decided I’ll give the pomarola recipe a go.  Of course, I’ll write up a review of it if/when I do make it.

I also did the right thing and tried to give my mother a call.  She has left two incredibly nasty messages on our home answering machine, stating that she ‘knew’ I was home and that I was deliberately ignoring her.  After getting the first message a few days back, I wasn’t inclined to call her back, so I didn’t.  Yesterday we received a similar message, in the same vein.  I tried to call her this morning but she was (fortunately) out.  I think she needs to be told that honey attracts more flies than vinegar – not that I’m a fly, but you know what I mean. 

It’s a funny thing.  I’ve always wished that mum and I got along well, but we never have.  While it’s gotten better than when I was a teenager (when I left home, to escape her), it’s kind of got to a point where she’ll be fine, and I get excited thinking she’ll always be relatively easy to deal with; then I get these really unpleasant voicemail messages from her.  If I’m really unlucky, I will actually be home and receive her call, in which case I have to emotionally defend myself for up to an hour from her vitriol.  It makes SO furious that she is so unpleasant to me.  We’ve had heated discussions about it.  Ultimately, though, she is my mother, and when you’ve lost one parent, it makes you realise that you do love them, despite their faults.  I just wish her faults weren’t so detrimental to my mental health.