My Dear Cousin - Remodeling

 

27th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

In my last letter I mentioned that (Pickle) had elected to remodel the bathrooms. This was likely because I had the money from an inheritance, and he wanted to spend it for me. Anyway, the house was a wreck and I was still too depressed to really get much cleaning done.

I mean, I was still not speaking with (Yule) or (Pony Girl) and she had gotten now more than eighty thousand dollars from the old man in support. My life was a ruin, and I was trying to get as much of it back together as I could.

One of the problems with people who have suffered the abuse that I have is that they tend to have trouble trusting others and letting them into their lives. Me, I’m alone for that reason, and so my broken soul left me depressed and hard to live with.

We hired a contractor and elected to remodel both bathrooms and replace the old galvanized pipes with new copper ones bringing them to modern standard and preventing the rust of galvanized pipes from getting in the new fittings.

This was when I insisted that (Pickle) use the money (Yule) promised me for college to repair the house. He had a check book with his name and the old man’s on it. He had access to the money that had now been promised me twice. I figured it was only fair.

After all, this man had beaten me as a youth, abused me verbally as an adult, and now I was forced to look after him. That could be another reason why the family was always so unsupportive. They wanted me to spend my life looking after their problem.

Anyway, (Pickle) first tried to pay with his own money rather than speaking to the old man about it. Then he decided against that and called (Pony Girl). It did turn out the contractor was crooked but the family felt that I should have paid ‘my share’ even as they had short changed me. (Pony Girl) put a stop order on the whole thing and even adult protective services were called.

It led to a real rift between (Pickle) and I. It didn’t help that the contractor was crooked and used parts that didn’t last, old materials, and the cheapest crap that he could find. It really was a mess.

(Pickle) never forgave me for expecting him to use the money I was promised. He knew it was mine and he didn’t object at first but only made a stink about it later. You tell me, was I in the wrong?

Best,


Richard Leland Neal

My Dear Cousin - My Legal Guardian

4^th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

At this point a tangent may be in order. I don’t believe I mentioned that my legal guardian and the executor of my mother’s estate was the old man’s sister. Yes, my aunt on my (Yule)’s side became my guardian after my mother’s passing. The old man was busy with his new wife and mom didn’t trust him.

I’m not sure why he was in charge of the upkeep of my home, but you see my aunt did the work. We ripped out the carpet ourselves, and my aunt and her husband put in the acrylic tile. When the wood under it rotted, and the tile came up she hired her nephew from another aunt to put it back together. When the wood rotted again they finally got a professional to do the work. After the third rotting they gave up.

From what I gather I could have had a lot more work done for what I paid for the floors, light fixtures, and a few plugs. My aunt, with the old man’s permission, overpaid herself. I’m only bitter about this because I live in so much of a slum and still haven’t gotten my home repaired.

My aunt was poor and needed money. We have all done things we’re not proud of for money. I get it, she handled things for me that my old man was too much of a child to deal with. She deserved something for that, but she also deserved to be in prison for child neglect. Even had she not been my legal guardian it is now state law that she needed to report the old man for leaving a ten year old alone.

If you ask at this point why the old man, who at least saw what the house looked like on weekends when he came over to take me to the store, didn’t do anything about the state of things, I have an answer. He didn’t really care.

I once called him and said we needed a plumber, because the tap was leaking in the bathroom. He just said “No we don’t, let it leak.” That weekend he called me into the bathroom and said “you forgot to turn the sink off.” I told him to try turning it off, and he finally called his sister who sent her husband to fix the problem.

My old man was like that. He would live with broken things. Oddly, he would also go to the store and fill up two carts worth of things that would then wind up on the floor. He would never take any of it back home with him on Monday when he left to go be with his wife. That is unless his wife came with him to my home. In which case she would walk off with whatever she could get her hands on.

Evil stepmoms, am I right,

 

 

Richard Leland Neal

 

Sunday Bells Issue 2 'Not in a Day'

Fix it Right or Leave it Be

25^th October 2012

Dear Cassi,

       

As a point I have come to say ‘fix it proper or leave it be

if it still works,’ and this idea has once again come into play with my kitchen cabinets.

       

These sections of wood have stood poorly in the decades of their use but I fault them none as they have been hard used. The three daemons in child form, of which I was one, that inhabited this old house cracked the bricks of the walls so the fact that this wood still holds is impressive.

       

Things that have failed in these cabinets, however, the bits that hold them shut. I can tell that more than one generation of thought has gone into holding those doors closed. Some have magnetic seals and some spring seals but neither had taken to stand the test of time.

  

     

Some weeks ago my neighbor added new spring latches to the old wood to hold these aged sentinels shut. This had no impact on cabinet closing. The old worn doors just slide open as they have for more than twenty years. This was a small failure but as it took a few dollars and did nothing to change things it was a bad idea.

       

I had asked my neighbor not to do it but rather to get the self closing hinges that would permanently deal with the problem. He could have not worked on my cabinets at all and I would have preferred that to this situation.

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Leviathan’s Blush

7^Th September 2012

Dear Cassi,

       

Again the monster that would make leviathan blush was at my home today,

and again she spoke to me as if I had no reason to hold her in contempt. However, I was permitted the mercy of sleeping through most of her presents. It is as if I were encouraged to stand to the wall so that no one could see the knives they have put in my back or to put on a mask so the scars cannot be seen.

       

The questions I once held for the world of humanity now lie pulverized in the dust of things once standing. How can we stand to see those in the streets with no home covered with the filth of the world and suffering? How do children wander the night unlooked after? Why does the injustice of the world thrive when the better parts of the human spirit fall into disuse?

       

Because the human animal follows the path of least resistance and it is so easy to be cruel. Nature is cruel and we come from nature so our soul is cruel. Where in this world to we place the doers of evil? Well, we imprison them and put them about their thief fellows lorded over by other evil folks.

       

When Iron ore is put onto the fire is does not make steel. No the ore will turn to slag. We must add carbon to make steel of ore and so adding a thing that is not natural to make proper things. So, where is the carbon in prison? Guards, wardens, bars, rules, if it is there it is not enough to make iron from the slag of our society.

       

Further, to make stainless steel we must add nickel and such. To get what we want we must first look after the mix of things so well. To make strong mettle we most have the right elements. This is a simple idea. So then to make souls right we too need to bring together the right things.

       

Is my soul right? It mustn’t be for I have not had those things that makes a soul right put to me. Still, from slag can be made good steel, and from my soul can still be made a proper man.

Watch your pots, little sister

Richard Leland Neal