Oh happy, happy day!

Cast your mind back if you will, to the not so heady days of last summer, when out of the blue, I suddenly and without realisation, became responsible for my neighbour. Remember? The lady with the dog? Yup, that's the one.

For those who may be reading this and are not familiar with this tale, a small overview:

Said neighbour became ill one bright and sunny Sunday, all symptoms pointed to a heart attack and as one does in times of crisis, I stepped into the breach. She was whisked away to hospital for the appropriate care and I was left with the responsibility of her house, her dog, that I might add requires copious amounts of walking, her financial affairs, the whole shooting match. She is single, her family are all in Germany and she has no contact with her offspring. All this would be just fine had it not been for the fact that once diagnosed with angina and home, she seemed to decide she rather liked my taking care of her and for what turned into months I did her shopping, accompanied her on various trips to the doctors, fetched and carried her friends to an from Edinburgh airport ( around trip of 140 miles) and walked the damn dog at least three times a day to her appointed timetable.

Eventually this situation began to.... er.....shall we say, rather piss me off, I couldn't extricate myself easily from the situation and felt guilty for trying. As time progressed and the months wore on though, with a swift boot up the rear courtesy of a few friends and bloggers, I managed it and I got my life back at last.

And then it began again. Despite my avoiding her eye, not stopping to chat for long and not visiting often she found a new way and now comes clutching a copy of 'Woman's Weekly' or the 'Saga' magazine as an offering to get through my door whenever she requires something of me. Er....like I want to read Woman's Weekly and Saga? I may be old but I'm not that damn old!

Anyway, I digress, her latest requirement of me was to book her return flights to Berlin, I have the internet, she does not. This seems to be a recurring theme, she uses my things and can consequently afford little 'beanos' overseas. I of course complied and the flights where booked. Not enough, having then sidestepped her best attempts to hint that the dog needs a 'home' for the three weeks away, I then had to find her a boarding kennel. Ok, I did that too.

Yesterday, clutching the usual offering of magazines she appeared, flight confirmation form in hand. Oh bloody, sodding hell , what now!? I thought. She proceeded to tell me she needed the flights changed, fights to be in the opposite direction and in someone else's name! Bear in mind here she had expected to pay over £200 for these flights originally and I had got them for her at £45. Not satisfied with this she now wanted to transfer said tickets.

I was about to explode, to commit a heinous crime, drop the pc on her head from a dizzy height, stuff the bloody Woman's Weekly down her neck, or at the very least forcibly remove her from the premises when suddenly life took a turn for the better.

The reason for this transfer..........she is moving and can't use her flights because the dates coincide!!!! Yaaayyyy.

My apologies for what seems like utter and hard-faced unkindness here, but enough is enough and I just can't help feeling........ Yayyyyy, yayyyyy, yayyyyy!!!!

It seems that at last she has realised that at almost 70, in poor health and without transport, living in a field is not the best idea! It's almost sad, as a conversationalist she is great, she can be fun and we used to be friends of sorts but my life ceased to be my own and I won't be sorry not to have to scurry into my own home whilst trying to avoid her anymore. Oh, and I won't miss my weekly treat....Womans bloody weekly!