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Home again, exhausted again, after several days of loading boxes into and out of my car and driving up and down motorways, helping Daughter and Husband prepare for today's eviction.

I love my son-in-law very much and respect his career as a sculptor working in reclaimed/found materials, but these feelings have been tested to their fucking limits over the weekend, I can tell you. I mean, it may end up as part of a sculpture, but right now it's junk, easily replaceable fucking junk at that.

Ach, I'm just very tired and very very anxious about what will happen to them, where they will end up. And I do admire them holding out for a secure home. They could have taken me up on my offer of funding them to move somewhere cheaper, but they would have been evictable again after six months and couldn't face it. This way, unless the Tories get back in and all bets are off about what happens to the poor and disabled, they will eventually come to the top of the list and be re-housed somewhere where they actually have to do something wrong to get evicted, which will be nice.

I saw a comment on twitter about some election promise of greater access to mortgages making the point that most of us don't really care about the method of payment/ownership of our homes, we just want them to be secure and affordable, which shouldn't be beyond the capacity of the sixth richest nation on earth. You'd think.

OK, that's me off for now. I may be back later. I'm really hoping life will be able to calm down once YD and her H are settled somewhere, and more than that I'm hoping they'll be sent somewhere decent.


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