So simple, so simple I thought it would be.
I ran along to the Law Centre like my good MP told me to (and he is good, he is..) and they said, well the receptionist said, that the lawyers can't write a letter unless the MP writes them a letter specifically asking them to do so.
"Oh really?" I said, incredulous. It didn't help that I met a human rights lawyer at a party a few weeks ago who said statutory instruments were very quick to look up if you are in the field, so when the receptionist said 'It's a lot of work', I erm, didn't quite believe her. And besides, in this case, my MP made it quite clear I had to help him, in order for him to help me. I told him the Law Centre were unlikely to help me, legal aid an' all, and he seemed to think because I wasn't taking a case it should be fine.
I rang the MP's office afterwards. His secretary said that he couldn't write the letter. She also said the Law Centre would only do it if they saw an interest in it.
Do they see an interest in the homeless being given rights or do they think holy fuck, every one will have rights and no-one will be able to exercise them because there's no money and what little legal aid is left is being slashed?
Despondant I was. Despondant because I'd also written to Shelter (you may think that contacting both it wrong but I'm on my own here, I need as much support with my idea as possible...)
Anyway, Shelter haven't gotten back..yet. The MP's secretary said it might take a while.
Cainer told me yesterday to be patient.
I had a dream this morning I should so a course in housing law, become a housing lawyer and write the letter to the MP myself on embossed paper. Wave it at the ministers. It made me tired just thinking about it...
I don't know. Perhaps I should do what my instinct told me yesterday, as well as Cainer, to sit on my hands so I don't bite my nails and pick my cuticles and bide my time.
Argh, you know, sometimes I need to take my own advice and slowwww dowwwwn and trussst that things will work out.
Up hill all the way innit?
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Monday, 6 June 2011
Hoping my idea's developing - a song
Once I believed that when ideas came to me
They would come with plans and answers quick(er)ly
But with homeless you
it just started quietly and grew
And believe it or not
Now there's something groovy and good
'Bout whatever I got
And it's getting better
Growing stronger warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better every day?
I do feel quite turned on and starry eyed
And I feel a calm contentment deep inside
Holding dreams at night just seems kind of natural and right
If it works you will see
That it isn't half of what it's going to turn out to be
My idea’s getting better
Growing stronger, warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better everyday?
Ba da da da da da da da da da da da
And I don't mind waitin', do I mind waitin?
'Cause no matter how long it takes
That deep down I know
My idea’s getting better
Growing stronger, warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better everyday
I hope it's getting strong
I really hope it's getting strong
I hope it's getting strong
I really hope it's getting strong....
(Mama Cass featuring Stigmum)
and now with accompanying music you can hear....!
They would come with plans and answers quick(er)ly
But with homeless you
it just started quietly and grew
And believe it or not
Now there's something groovy and good
'Bout whatever I got
And it's getting better
Growing stronger warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better every day?
I do feel quite turned on and starry eyed
And I feel a calm contentment deep inside
Holding dreams at night just seems kind of natural and right
If it works you will see
That it isn't half of what it's going to turn out to be
My idea’s getting better
Growing stronger, warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better everyday?
Ba da da da da da da da da da da da
And I don't mind waitin', do I mind waitin?
'Cause no matter how long it takes
That deep down I know
My idea’s getting better
Growing stronger, warm and wiser
Getting better everyday, better everyday
I hope it's getting strong
I really hope it's getting strong
I hope it's getting strong
I really hope it's getting strong....
(Mama Cass featuring Stigmum)
and now with accompanying music you can hear....!
The Tortoise and the Hare
In my son's absence, I told you didn't I that I would take a break from blogging in order to clear that head of mine ready to ask Dobbie to save the Universe, just for me (heh heh).
I didn't clear my head, but I did go to see him.
He recognised me which was great and at the same time was suprised to see me. What would I want now?
Save the Universe Dobbie!
No, of course what I'd planned to say I didn't, but I got my main points out:
The homeless are discriminated against in policy. Please get the Statutory Instrument (whatever that is... yeah, I was still confused by the time I went to see him). He said there were hundreds upon thousands of Statutory Instruments and I looked at him blankly. Well, it felt blankly from my side, I couldn't say what he interpreted because he told me to get a legal organisation such as the Law Centre or Shelter to write to him listing what needed to be changed and he would take that to ministers!
I was quite shocked. I don't know what I expected. Surely I expected that? I couldn't ask for much better could I?
I'd come armed with four letters. One I'd written to him, one I'd written to Miliband, one I'd written to Shapps and the latest one to Clegg. I'd had a whole speech prepared around these letters but all I said was to read them.
One thing that startled me was how startled he looked when I said amending the Statutory Instruments as relates to the homeless was a "symbolic gesture that will rip open the debate. The need, the need..." and he nodded like he understood what I was saying.
He didn't say nothing could be done though did he? He didn't say it was hopeless. He could have done. Imagine he was a Tory.. he would have done, maybe, possibly, perhaps.
This, after what it seems like years I've been campaigning, feels like a beginning. It feels like a beginning that won't have a speedy resolution.
That night I had a dream about the Tortoise and the Hare. The tortoise wins in the end! The tortoise wins!
I must do as Dobbie asked then patiently wait.
Patiently hope.
Patiently believe.
I also promised New Day New Lesson that I would post her link about turtles and rabbits because I read it just the next day and it felt like a brilliant coincidence even though our subject matter differed!
Slow and steady wins the race she says.
My campaign's been slow and hopefully I can one day prove or give hope to others, that slow can finish and finish successfully!
Believe
I didn't clear my head, but I did go to see him.
He recognised me which was great and at the same time was suprised to see me. What would I want now?
Save the Universe Dobbie!
No, of course what I'd planned to say I didn't, but I got my main points out:
The homeless are discriminated against in policy. Please get the Statutory Instrument (whatever that is... yeah, I was still confused by the time I went to see him). He said there were hundreds upon thousands of Statutory Instruments and I looked at him blankly. Well, it felt blankly from my side, I couldn't say what he interpreted because he told me to get a legal organisation such as the Law Centre or Shelter to write to him listing what needed to be changed and he would take that to ministers!
I was quite shocked. I don't know what I expected. Surely I expected that? I couldn't ask for much better could I?
I'd come armed with four letters. One I'd written to him, one I'd written to Miliband, one I'd written to Shapps and the latest one to Clegg. I'd had a whole speech prepared around these letters but all I said was to read them.
One thing that startled me was how startled he looked when I said amending the Statutory Instruments as relates to the homeless was a "symbolic gesture that will rip open the debate. The need, the need..." and he nodded like he understood what I was saying.
He didn't say nothing could be done though did he? He didn't say it was hopeless. He could have done. Imagine he was a Tory.. he would have done, maybe, possibly, perhaps.
This, after what it seems like years I've been campaigning, feels like a beginning. It feels like a beginning that won't have a speedy resolution.
That night I had a dream about the Tortoise and the Hare. The tortoise wins in the end! The tortoise wins!
I must do as Dobbie asked then patiently wait.
Patiently hope.
Patiently believe.
I also promised New Day New Lesson that I would post her link about turtles and rabbits because I read it just the next day and it felt like a brilliant coincidence even though our subject matter differed!
Slow and steady wins the race she says.
My campaign's been slow and hopefully I can one day prove or give hope to others, that slow can finish and finish successfully!
Believe
The joy of seeing my son!
My beautiful boy finally arrived home from his Spanish holiday at 3pm yesterday afternoon. For the first time ever I spontaneously began to cry which set him off so we hugged hugged hugged and tried to laugh it off!
Maybe it was the anticipation; I'd been looking forward to seeing him since before he even went away! Then for him to be late... I was emotionally knackered....
A curious thing though.
At the very beginning when he went there was a void within me that ached because love and my child resides there and my son was gone, only for a week, but nonetheless gone.
So in order to fill the void, I thought I'd imagine that I had a full time job and a husband.
So I closed my eyes and imagined my full time job that I loved and imagined coming home to a man who I loved and you know what, I missed my son so intensely, that I could not fantasise about that again!
What does that tell ya?!
So from then on whenever that longing came for my child, my child's laugh, my child's hugs, my child's conversations, I just imagined him. I just closed my eyes and pictured his face and the ache would pass.
It rained all afternoon. I'd planned to take him to the Green Fair at Regents Park but we just stayed at home and being home with him, was just the perfect place to be!
Lucky are we who have children, don't you agree?!
Maybe it was the anticipation; I'd been looking forward to seeing him since before he even went away! Then for him to be late... I was emotionally knackered....
A curious thing though.
At the very beginning when he went there was a void within me that ached because love and my child resides there and my son was gone, only for a week, but nonetheless gone.
So in order to fill the void, I thought I'd imagine that I had a full time job and a husband.
So I closed my eyes and imagined my full time job that I loved and imagined coming home to a man who I loved and you know what, I missed my son so intensely, that I could not fantasise about that again!
What does that tell ya?!
So from then on whenever that longing came for my child, my child's laugh, my child's hugs, my child's conversations, I just imagined him. I just closed my eyes and pictured his face and the ache would pass.
It rained all afternoon. I'd planned to take him to the Green Fair at Regents Park but we just stayed at home and being home with him, was just the perfect place to be!
Lucky are we who have children, don't you agree?!
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Silent Sundays
All over the blogosphere, there are mums who post photos every week under a meme (meme?) entitled Silent Sunday.
Many of these pictures are really beautiful and allow you to reflect peacefully, smile perhaps. To date I haven't joined in with this. I have a camera but lost the bits.
Still, I come to pierce the Silent Sunday with my Silent Scream
My son isn't home.
I sent a text last night saying I expect him back by 12 so as I wait I still cannot shrug the anger.
He was due back yesterday. It was agreed that my son would come back yesterday. The Foca was the one who booked his holiday tickets, the Foca was the one who agreed yesterday.
I have spent a week looking forward to yesterday.
I won't go into the details, but suffice to say we had a text row, when he finally answered my text enquiring about time of arrival four hours after I sent it, to say he might be a little late and perhaps he'd take our son back to Brighton.
"What would you prefer?" he asked.
That he comes home, I said.
Might not be possible, he replies.
Why ask then?
At 8pm last night he sent a text saying 'the three boys are exhausted - I can't make [our son] travel anymore'
RRRRRRAAAAAAGH
I was with my friend Mary who said 'text back and say 'great, thanks'. It's what he wants, to get a reaction from you. It's not about your son it's about him. Text and say 'great'.
I couldn't of course, but took her advice and wrote 'I expect him back by 12'. I then swallowed some bile as I texted the word 'please' remember to return his passport and steeled myself when I wrote 'Thanks'
Long time followers will know he's like this.
Long time followers know that on silent days in a silent flat which shouldn't be silent there should be a child's laughter ringing in it, I have to let off steam
How's that for a picture....
A whistling RrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrragH
Many of these pictures are really beautiful and allow you to reflect peacefully, smile perhaps. To date I haven't joined in with this. I have a camera but lost the bits.
Still, I come to pierce the Silent Sunday with my Silent Scream
My son isn't home.
I sent a text last night saying I expect him back by 12 so as I wait I still cannot shrug the anger.
He was due back yesterday. It was agreed that my son would come back yesterday. The Foca was the one who booked his holiday tickets, the Foca was the one who agreed yesterday.
I have spent a week looking forward to yesterday.
I won't go into the details, but suffice to say we had a text row, when he finally answered my text enquiring about time of arrival four hours after I sent it, to say he might be a little late and perhaps he'd take our son back to Brighton.
"What would you prefer?" he asked.
That he comes home, I said.
Might not be possible, he replies.
Why ask then?
At 8pm last night he sent a text saying 'the three boys are exhausted - I can't make [our son] travel anymore'
RRRRRRAAAAAAGH
I was with my friend Mary who said 'text back and say 'great, thanks'. It's what he wants, to get a reaction from you. It's not about your son it's about him. Text and say 'great'.
I couldn't of course, but took her advice and wrote 'I expect him back by 12'. I then swallowed some bile as I texted the word 'please' remember to return his passport and steeled myself when I wrote 'Thanks'
Long time followers will know he's like this.
Long time followers know that on silent days in a silent flat which shouldn't be silent there should be a child's laughter ringing in it, I have to let off steam
How's that for a picture....
A whistling RrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrragH
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