Barmy Blue's Bland Blog

Told you it'd be fun.
So. I got up early. Earlier than mum. She told me that she only had two presents for me this year. That's fine.
So. Knowing that there were two under the tree for me I assumed that we wouldn't have out little tradition this year. That's fine too. I'm 26 and I don't have a job so I couldn't expect lots of presents. I was grateful for two. (Remember? She usually leaves a bag of little presents in my room on Christmas day. Originally they were from "Santa" and she still does it, even though I'm too old for Santa but now it's from "Mum".)
I don't like change, especially from things like Christmas "traditions" but I've come to accept that things will change from time to time and that's okay.
So I'd resigned myself to not having that little slice of tradition this year, especially since I don't think that I deserve it anyway.

I still had a little list of things to do. I set my alarm for 7 (thanks to a miscommunication. Mum was half asleep when I thought she was awake so I asked if 7was a realistic time that I needed to be up for. She said yes. This is a big problem with her. She agrees to things when she hasn't heard what I've said) So I went to bed earlier than usual. Can only have been there for about 6 hours. But that's because I didn't get up at 7. I got up at about 8:40.
My list of duties?
Put up remaining last minute Christmas cards.
Stick up the decorations that fell down in the night.
Finish clearing the armchair, so Napoleon would have somewhere to sit (We use it for storage really. Mum only ever sits in her armchair and I only ever sit at my desk so we only need a second one when we have company and that company is only ever Napoleon on one of his scant visits).
Put the dog toys away (or at least out of the way).
And Hoover. Because the floor was covered in pine needles and tinsel and glitter.
I also had to have breakfast.

So, after some procrastination I set about all that. Then I heard mum getting up. She came downstairs with an old Christmas bag (we have a few from previous years. Well. They're nice and it's a shame to waste them when they're still usable). I was quite surprised. She saved some things for our little tradition. It's like a little private bit of Christmas for us when she watches me unwrap some little things she's got me, before Napoleon comes.
She said She'd planned to put them in my room when she woke me up, but I got up early so she couldn't. Like I said. I was pretty surprised. I didn't think we'd be doing this this year. She gave me a 2015 diary, an iTunes card and a cute snail cushion (you know I'm fond of snails). It was nice. So was the wrapping paper. Full of gold glittery reindeers but the glitter meant that the tape didn't stick very well and we ended up with glitter on the floor. Normally that wouldn't be a problem but we have a dog now and she often licks the carpet, so another reason to hoover.
I like to get it done before Napoleon comes round, especially since a previous Christmas (can't remember if it was last Christmas or the one before) he caught me hoovering and seemed so surprised that I felt quite insulted. I can hoover. I'm perfectly capable. I just usually choose not to. But that's had to change a bit since we got the dog. (during our first Christmas together she started eating the pine needles on the floor).

So once the unwrapping was done I expressed my gratitude and we got back to last minute clearing up. I was half way through hoovering when Napoleon called at about 10:30 or so. He was surprised I was up. Again, a little insulted. In the past I've had trouble getting up in time for him on Christmas day, but that was back when he came earlier because we went to see both of his brothers. Now there's only one. I'm normally quite ready these days.

You remember I told you he'd called about two days before regarding some post he was expecting? Well. I mentioned a letter He'd gotten a couple of weeks ago. It's regarding his tax or something. He gets one about the same time every year and he'd already received one earlier about it. I didn't bring it up because there was little point. It's about the tax he has to pay or something and it's due by the end of January. (He's self employed so he has to give the tax man a bunch of information and stuff). Now. I didn't bring it up earlier because a) I forgot. b) was kind of busy getting ready for Christmas. c) don't really like having to communicate with him. d) It's not like he was going to come down so close to Christmas to pick it up anyway and as he was definitely coming down at Christmas he can take it away and deal with it then.

Now. For some reason he got all stroppy about this. Now. This is a man who you tell something is wrong and he doesn't get round to seeing you until two weeks later and as he was going to come on Christmas day there's no way he would have come down earlier to pick up that letter. So it didn't really matter. However. He didn't see it that way and abruptly hung up on me when I tried to debate the issue. Get your ****ing post sent to your current address then old man. If it bothers you that much. We only ever get junk mail and tax letters sent here, he's transferred the rest, either to mum or where ever he lives now.
So. Like I said. He was stroppy. And I knew he'd still be stroppy for Christmas day. I've been kind of crabby too so I told you it'd be fun.

So. He called to see that I was up and told me that he was leaving now then.
Then he completely crashed my happy, but fragile, little mood. I expected to get a little unhappy when he called, that's usually the effect he has.

But this.

This almost obliterated Christmas.

He mentioned, casually, as if it was perfectly fine to do so, that he wasn't staying for dinner.
My first response was "What?" so he repeated.
My next response was "are you joking?" it's hard to tell with him. I don't spend much time around him and he doesn't express very well so his sense of humour can be a little jarring.
Mum was in the room. (She always cooks Christmas dinner. She had to stay up to put the turkey in the oven and she barely slept in the short time she had to sleep.) And when mum's in the room I usually tell her what Napoleon has said, if it's regarding us or something, or I repeat what he's said back at him, partly to let her know and partly to confirm what he's said.
So I repeated, in a rather flat tone "You're not staying for dinner?".
I think she was just as struck as me, if not more so and was probably running through the same thoughts as me.
I asked why and his response was the most ****ty response in human history "to break with tradition".

When I hung up my mood had completely crashed. Mum was beyond p****d off.

When I went to bed that morning I decided not to get depressed about Napoleon and anything he might say or do. To try to make an effort to be pleasant to him no matter what, even if I was unhappy, because it felt wrong to harbour bad feelings towards someone on Christmas day (plus I'd feel guilty if he got me something nice). So I decided to harbour no ill feelings until Boxing Day.

This news sorely tested that newfound resolution.

I told you I don't like change. He's always had Christmas dinner with us. Always in the same seat at the same table and basically the same meal, with a minor change here or there over the years.

I lost all energy. Started to feel a little tired (that happens when I get unhappy, apparently it's quite normal, so that's nice to know).

But I'd started so I had to finish the hoovering. To match the change in my mood I put on some loud angry music as opposed to the Creature Feature I was listening to before to keep me motivated. Not sure why but I feel a little better when I play loud music when I'm angry. I hope it's not too loud though. I'm not sure how much the neighbours can hear.

Then I went to get dressed.

A few weeks ago I got a Christmas jumper, well sweatshirt kind of thing. Bit thin for a sweatshirt though. It has a reindeer on it that flashes and plays jingle bells. I'd already set that aside for the day.
The front door was locked, so I felt a little pleased at the thought "if I'm not ready Napoleon can just wait a little while." Mum was of the same opinion. He knocked while I was putting my jeans on. We made him wait.

Mum confirmed about him not staying for dinner. He sat down. He'd said hello to the dog and stroked her but he didn't play with her. It's not like he's never had a dog before. He knows what to do with them. But once he's given her a little stroke he just ignores her. Strangers never come into the house. So when one does Yuki wants to investigate. Also she seems to like men, so mum tells me, probably because she lives with two women. Every time Napoleon comments something like "silly dog, what's up with you?" and I usually refer to him as "The Stranger" for the dog. And he says "I'm not a stranger. I'm Napoleon" as if the dog is supposed to recognise him from his few visits.
Maybe she does and maybe she doesn't. But the fact remains is that he's a stranger to her and he's come into her territory. Of course she's interested. I don't understand why he doesn't get that.

Mum went into the kitchen and came out with the sprouts on a stalk we'd gotten on our last minute essentials shopping trip and threw them at him, stating that he might as well take them, since we weren't going to have them. He's the only one who likes sprouts so we only get them for him really. I don't like them and neither does mum. Funny really because I'd decided this year to try one sprout to see if my tastes had changed.
He looked quite surprised, as if she were somehow being unreasonable. He asked why. She told him that a little notice would have been nice and that just because he was angry at me didn't mean that he couldn't tell her he wouldn't be staying, and this is the only day he spends with his daughter (me). Well. I was kind of selfishly thinking don't bring that into it, what if he wants to spend more time with me? I couldn't really stand that now, maybe it would've been good when I was a child but now it's different.

In an attempt to diffuse a little and to be fair I did point out that he usually sees me on my birthday too. Although that's maybe for an hour or so depending.

Again. He was rather oblivious as to why she was pointing this out. He seems to think that a text most days about the weather is good enough. Personally I don't really care. The less communication I have with him the better. I'll probably regret statements like that when he's dead. But still. I think he might want a little more communication but I don't see the point. He wants me to reply to his weather texts. What with exactly? Maybe just a text every week or so, so he knows what's going one. Since I only text him when there's a problem. Yeah. There's a reason for that. I still border on indifference towards him and a low burning hatred. More indifference than hatred but I can't deny that there's a little hate.

If we'd known he wouldn't be staying we wouldn't have had to get custard (he doesn't like cream with his Christmas pudding, he only has it with custard. Me and mum have it with cream). Mum got two lots of potatoes. I'm not much of a potato fan because I had to eat a lot of frozen potato products as a child. We wouldn't have gotten a second bag of premade turkey gravy. Normally he has his own separate thing gravy and mum and I have thick gravy. That's because in the past he preferred thin gravy. But last year he...well, I can't say that he complained exactly, but he pointed out that he didn't get thick gravy. Mum explained why then and he didn't accept the offer of it then. But this year I reminded mum about it so we got extra gravy for him. This way she wouldn't have to make two lots of gravy. So that would be good. Well. It would've if he'd had dinner.

Now. Before he came I told mum about my little Christmas day resolution but she was pretty mad. She started getting ready to take the dog out so, in an attempt to lift her mood a little before we left I pressed the reindeer on my shirt. She smiled at least. Napoleon was in the other room at the time.

So. I forgot to mention. Yes. Napoleon was still mad at me. and my attempts to break awkward silence felt almost as awkward as the silence. The drive to my uncle's was rather quiet, then again it usually it. Napoleon mostly listened to the radio, as usual, I listened to my ipod, as usual. Now and then there was a small exchange of sentences or two.

I had a thought that turned into a slightly sinking paranoia. He's driving me to an area I'm not really familiar with (we go there every Christmas but I don't really know it). He's grumpy with me. Mum might have unintentionally fuelled the fire. I have no phone. I have no money. What if he leaves me here? Then I started to think. He's going to leave me here. Maybe for real or maybe for a joke, to teach me a lesson and he'll come back in five minutes, or not. If he does I should wander off somewhere so he can't find me and starts to panic, that'll teach him a lesson. I'll find a shop or something that's open, because a couple are here and there, politely ask to use a phone and call mum, but I'll have to wait an hour or so until she comes back with the dog. But if it happens I'll be fine.
It was just paranoia. He didn't do that at all. But I do wonder if he thought about it. Probably not. The man has no imagination at all.

We saw my uncle, gave him his gifts, he gave us ours. (By the way. This uncle is Napoleon's brother, just in case you were unsure. I have two uncles and usually uncle refers to my mother's brother but this time it's my father's brother, just so we're clear. His other brother is dead. I bring it up because he will be mentioned soon.) He asked Napoleon about his radiators, two don't work. Napoleon tried to look at them but couldn't. My uncle didn't have his radiator key to bleed them, he said it was in a tool box somewhere or something but we couldn't find it.
Napoleon got me to help him take my uncle's old tv downstairs and the two of them took it to the bins. My uncle told us about how he was reaching to paint a corner and fell into a basement and hurt his shoulder and how he'd had to see a chiropodist but hadn't filled out the form to claim back the expenses yet. He's diabetic so he's on medication, had to cut down on his drinking, has health checkups and has to regulate his diet. He had an appointment to check his feet but he was going on holiday and left on the day of the appointment so had to cancel it. When he got back he was having a little foot trouble and there was a chiropodists near to where he was working so he went there. It was pricey in his opinion (I say that because I can't' remember how much he said it was).
Also his flat has a damp problem. The council are fixing it. It's a bit of a problem here and there in the neighbourhood. Also he was unhappy that he couldn't have minced pies. The nurse at his check up said he couldn't. He'd like it with ice cream. It shouldn't be a big deal. Before he'd have a box of them every week or so. Not just at Christmas. Maybe not every week. But it was a treat. Ice cream should be okay.
Ah. But a key component of ice cream is sugar. We pointed this out to him. He could maybe get low sugar foods. Nope. Didn't want them.

Napoleon didn't tell me about his holiday in Canada. Last year he brought a slideshow. This year, when I asked to make conversation, he had the attitude of what's the point. It's over and it was ages ago now. So since he didn't feel like talking about his holiday I didn't try to broach the subject of the secret sister.
He brought it up briefly to my uncle. Seems that the dead brother's widow corresponded with the sister and sent her some pictures of him. The sister had two children, as son and daughter and the son looks just like my dead uncle when he was that age, so we're told. That got me thinking. if I ever had a son I hope he gets his father's features (assuming his father has good features) and doesn't come out with Napoleons. It would all depend on the genetics really.
He briefly told my uncle about mum throwing sprouts at him, stating that she was mad at him without elaborating much on the matter. We almost came to blows later on. Kind of felt like he was looking to dig at me. I'm quite proud of myself for being more of a grown up and not showing anger. It was bubbling though. *******. I had to give false apologies and try to sound sincere for slighting him and or making offhand comments, as I had vowed not to be nasty today.
We drove my uncle to his friend's house for his Christmas dinner (he used to go to the pub for dinner but they stopped doing that and he can now anyway because of the diabetes). The two confirmed plans to meet again on Saturday.

End of part 1