Sunday, it’s a day where all you think about is Monday, work! It always plays on your mind and detracts from relaxing on this day of rest. The morning was a pretty slow start not going to Anka until 9:30 and meeting Sacho there with the job half done we finished off and he went for some cigarettes and me, to be quite honest I don’t really remember, oh yes, cleaning out the wood burner five way vent that had been blocked with soot, I hope for a more efficient fire this evening. I also printed the letters I wrote to Jane last night and pictures of the Grape blessing yesterday.
Sacho returned from the shop just as I was sealing the envelope, we had tea and talked. He saw the pictures and was given one of him and Rosa. He left and I was to be at Sue’s some time today to cut some wood up with the chain saw.
The drive to Miladonosti was quite dangerous with the combination snow, slush and ice mixed in with the terrible road with pot holes to Australia! I enjoyed it! The next few hours were spent talking and chain-sawing with quite a bit of tinkering with the saw in between. We finished off with some lasagne and cabbage wrapped mince and rice I cooked last night and brought along.
I got back to Skalitsa in one piece before sunset only to find Sacho chopping up my wood into smaller pieces, he had also made me another sweeper as Anka had eaten most of the other one; this man never stops. I got all the washing in as it was forecast snow tomorrow and put it on the drier in the summer house. He had finished and was on his way again having already put Anka away for the evening.
The phone rang it was Jane she said she was going to a friend’s house this evening so she wouldn’t be there if I rang later. This is a good sign, Jane doing something. I said I couldn’t ring her anymore as it was costing a fortune and could be the demise of me staying here. I said that I would send letters and e-mails. It was like saying goodbye again and should have upset me as this could be the last time I speak to Jane for a long time, but it didn’t. I know she will be here eventually and going out to a friend’s house might be the way forward for her. I loved that woman so much and she knows I can’t go back to England no matter how much I love her. She will come I just have to give her more space to get better.
Something about today as I write this has changed. I feel alone and not being able to rely on anyone but myself. Not with the people who live around me in this lovely village but townies and family in the UK. I feel hated by so many people for coming over here and technically leaving Jane, but no one knows the background or reasons for this, namely I came here as it was the only solution to so many things, including our marriage.
The last few days I have found it very hard to write this diary and the whole point of it has come into question. Why am I writing a diary? It helps me get things out of my head and move on. I would like Jane to see the accounts and what I have gone through. It takes so much time and effort writing the diary it is like a mission every evening and sometimes I look back at the accounts and think, what a load of rubbish, it’s all about me and my thoughts and my emotions, who on earth would take any interest in this other than me? Answer, no one, just me. So the diary is for me and no one else.
Do I continue to write the diary? Well I think I have to at least until Jane get here with me. It is my view that when Jane does get here the story isn’t over but I will have someone to care and love and a diary isn’t needed. I have my Jane and Bulgaria what more could a man ever ask for? Nothing!
Sacho returned from the shop just as I was sealing the envelope, we had tea and talked. He saw the pictures and was given one of him and Rosa. He left and I was to be at Sue’s some time today to cut some wood up with the chain saw.
The drive to Miladonosti was quite dangerous with the combination snow, slush and ice mixed in with the terrible road with pot holes to Australia! I enjoyed it! The next few hours were spent talking and chain-sawing with quite a bit of tinkering with the saw in between. We finished off with some lasagne and cabbage wrapped mince and rice I cooked last night and brought along.
I got back to Skalitsa in one piece before sunset only to find Sacho chopping up my wood into smaller pieces, he had also made me another sweeper as Anka had eaten most of the other one; this man never stops. I got all the washing in as it was forecast snow tomorrow and put it on the drier in the summer house. He had finished and was on his way again having already put Anka away for the evening.
The phone rang it was Jane she said she was going to a friend’s house this evening so she wouldn’t be there if I rang later. This is a good sign, Jane doing something. I said I couldn’t ring her anymore as it was costing a fortune and could be the demise of me staying here. I said that I would send letters and e-mails. It was like saying goodbye again and should have upset me as this could be the last time I speak to Jane for a long time, but it didn’t. I know she will be here eventually and going out to a friend’s house might be the way forward for her. I loved that woman so much and she knows I can’t go back to England no matter how much I love her. She will come I just have to give her more space to get better.
Something about today as I write this has changed. I feel alone and not being able to rely on anyone but myself. Not with the people who live around me in this lovely village but townies and family in the UK. I feel hated by so many people for coming over here and technically leaving Jane, but no one knows the background or reasons for this, namely I came here as it was the only solution to so many things, including our marriage.
The last few days I have found it very hard to write this diary and the whole point of it has come into question. Why am I writing a diary? It helps me get things out of my head and move on. I would like Jane to see the accounts and what I have gone through. It takes so much time and effort writing the diary it is like a mission every evening and sometimes I look back at the accounts and think, what a load of rubbish, it’s all about me and my thoughts and my emotions, who on earth would take any interest in this other than me? Answer, no one, just me. So the diary is for me and no one else.
Do I continue to write the diary? Well I think I have to at least until Jane get here with me. It is my view that when Jane does get here the story isn’t over but I will have someone to care and love and a diary isn’t needed. I have my Jane and Bulgaria what more could a man ever ask for? Nothing!
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