My Dear Cousin - Permit

28th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

In my last letter I told you about (Pickle) wanting to remodel the house, my telling him to use the money my old man promised me for my part, and him calling (Pony Girl) who put a stop order on the re remodeling.

There was something of an issue with permits. I didn’t know much about them at the time, but the contractor hadn’t gotten them. This led to the permits being prepared and an inspector needing to come out to the house.

This is when (Pony Girl) came to the house to find the crew working. They needed to expose the pipe to show the inspector that they were up to code. Well, she put a stop to them working right away and started complaining.

I had to explain to her that if they didn’t work, we wouldn’t be able to get the plumbing inspected and so wouldn’t know if the work was good. She relented and the inspector went all over the house looking at the plumbing.

At this point any interaction I had with the woman put me in a bad mood so I normally would go to my workroom and work. I was running a blog or two by this point, and I always had something to do.

It was a sad state of affairs that I was once again dealing with a woman who had abused me as a child, continued that abuse into my adulthood and now felt I should have been happy to be her servant. (Pony Girl) is a parasite looking for someone to leach off and that person all too often was me.

She felt I was the dumb one because I let it happen. When I got wise to it she did what she could to play the victim. In the end, she sued the contractor, got some of the money back, and it left the house with one working bathroom.

(Pickle) never left me get over that and would harp on me for it for years after that. It was a big factor in him moving out that he had to share a bathroom with me. Part of it was that he hated me.

I know he hated me because he always took joy in causing me pain. He would bring up anything he could that would make me feel bad and rub it in. If I ever did that to him he’d cry about it. He had been doing that since I was ten years old and he kept doing it until the last time I spoke to him, but that’s for another Day.

Best,


Richard Leland Neal