Saw Milly this morning! I've not seen that mamma for donkey's years!! (feels like anyway!)
Great yakking but sadly I had to mention housing because with the 'four way' meeting next week, housing is dominating my otherwise uneventful life.
She didn't mind, love her, love her, love her but she did say, in terms of single mother with one child, which is why I now post: "Maybe they're not housing you because they think if they do, they'll have to house everyone else."
Now, ahem, they're housing people all the time. (The 'ahem' is me clearing my nicoteen throat as I was typing.) With the great big racket I'm making, why aren't they housing me and my son? Who, other than themselves would know if they did anyway?
I'm going to assume for a minute that they do know of this blogs existence, they do know it's me. Big Issue guy had the good grace to tell me he found it, so did the 'Hungarian' journalist guy; it's a fair assumption to make that they've found it too but don't have the good grace....
(As far as I know, I'm the only mother writing a blog like this, but if I'm not, would someone guide me to someone who is? Thanks.)
Let's look at my assumption from a couple of angles.
Council managers know and they think: "We are just following government directives. Let her write, we can pretend we don't know who she is, no-one else does and there are thousands in her situation so it's easy to carry on ignoring her. It makes no odds to us."
They know and they think: "We know what she's doing, we know what she's thinking. If she's going to slag us off, just let her carry on. We are just following government directives."
They know and they think: "It would be nice to house her and her son but if we do she'll write about it. Who else is reading her and not saying?
Councillors know and they think: "We know who she is, but no-one else does, we can pretend we don't, let her write."
They know and they think: "If she didn't write we could tell the managers to use their discretion but she does so we can tell her instead that we have no influence and at the same time let her readers think that we, and the managers beneath us, never use our discretion. Discretion? What's that? Serves her bloody right."
They know and they think: "It would be nice to house her and her son, but if we do she'll write about it. Who else is reading her and not saying?"
Party Leaders know and they think: "We know who she is, but no-one else does, we can pretend we don't, let her write."
They know and they think: "If only she'd go to the papers, we can use her and her son as political pawns pre-election."
They know and they think: "She better not go to the papers, the country's in a bloody mess and this is the last thing we need because we don't actually know what to do about it."
They know and they think: "Every Child Matters? Only mine!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
Yep, as I battle on unsuccessfully, you my son, my sun, don't know I write a blog but those who can help us possibly do. They're making you pay but I'm not sure I can stop what I've started now.
Stigmum is my sanity and you my son my sun need me to be sane. Everything I do, I do it for you.
(Aye, Stiggers is a 'Soldier' of sorts...but this was a number 1 song by Bryan Adams)
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2 comments:
Strong piece, stigmum, really feel your pain and frustration. Never occurred to me about someone you know reading your blog. Hope it does some good xxxx
Thanks Jen! Thanks, thanks, thanks. Big Issue guy twigged it was me because we met on the walk and had a beer after, which i referenced in the post, which he found on Google. Journo knew it was me as not only was I the only woman listening to him, but also the only woman in the pub propping up the bar with a bloody mary. He also found me on google. So for the council/councillors/party leaders to find this, well I've posted my letters to them and some of their responses.....
It would good if it does some good, not just for me and my son, but all the parents in my situation. Let's hope many of these assumptions are wrong and this six year wait, for a flipping council flat of all things, ends soon xxx
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