Author: peterb51

1st September 2019

I had agreed to help Ryan and Louise take their old sofa-bed to the tip.

It had fell victim to puppy dog piss and many other dog related activities.

They must have thought that I loved to delve around in piss and shit so it would be a perfect job for me.

The thing was bloody heavy, with a lot of effort we got it into the back of the Shogun, and headed off to Trowbridge.

The biggest problem was lifting the sofa bed up the steps and into the residential waste dumpster.

This guy stepped forward to help us, his enthusiasm first jammed Louise’s foot in the stairs, then when we got it to the top, smacked her in the face as he tried to lift it in the dumpster, she was not impressed.

What was worse, he threw it into the wrong dumpster.

We drove from there as fast as we could with Louise looking like she had gone three rounds with Mohammed Ali.

I finished re-fitting the skirting, the smell of Grip-Fix filled the house, mmm, it all was coming together again.

31st August 2019

I took my time marking out the sub floor panel with the new hatch. I didn’t want to rush and bodge the job.

By mid afternoon the sub floor was back in position, all that was left was the hardwood flooring to cut and fit.

By the evening the flooring was down, and surprisingly it was nearly perfect, it was starting to look as it had always been.

Kelli had been helping to set out flowers at a high society wedding. From what she had told me, there were lots of them.

Although flowers can look fantastic, the time in which they are appreciated is just a few hours, then they get trashed. For our own wedding, all the table arrangements were either kept, or given to the guests.

30th August 2019

I was down at Sainsbury’s at 9.00am to purchase heavy duty cleaning materials, this was a serious decontamination exercise.

I called in to Travis Perkins in Trowbridge to buy some new fittings.

“ Forty-two quid for a short piece of pipe and a ninety degree connection? “

I thought it was a little on the expensive side for some bits of plastic.

So I headed back to get started.

Several hours later the area was clean, and smelling a whole lot better.

I cut the pipe to length and attempted to fit everything into position. I could see why Andy used a flexible, but I persevered and with the aid of washing up liquid to allow the pipe to slide and rotate I managed to get it fitted.

I was quite pleased with myself, and would have patted myself on the back until I realised where my hands had been.

At least I had a functioning toilet again, and I didn’t need the help of a plumber to get it sorted.

I looked around at all the carnage, all the floor and skirting was stacked against the wall, my next task was to put everything back.

I decided to cut another inspection hatch into the floor just in case I ever needed to gain access to that space ever again, but that’s tomorrow’s job.

29th August 2019

Just when you think you have hit rock bottom, someone comes along and dumps in your corn flakes.

I had the boiler serviced, the engineer made sure all the taps, shower and radiators were all working well.

After he had left, I noticed there was a puddle of water on the bottom step going into the bathroom.

Panic set in, I looked around to see if it was dripping from upstairs, but there was no sign of any leak up there.

I was convinced it was in the pipe work under the raised floor in the bathroom.

I tried to remain calm and try to work out logically where the water was coming from.

The shower, kitchen and bathroom sink were all separate pipes, so I ran each of them in turn to see if water appeared on the step. Thankfully it didn’t, so none of those were the culprit. This just left the toilet waste.

I flushed the cistern and sure enough water poured out on to the step.

I tried to contact any emergency plumbers in the book, but none were available. I tried to contact my plumber Andy, but had no luck reaching him.

The one guy I did get hold of couldn’t get to me before the weekend, but suggested that I lift the floor myself and save a bit of money,

which is exactly what I did.

Fortunately the utility space was a self containing area of flooring that wasn’t part of the main bathroom, so removing it was a matter of removing the skirting board and lifting up the flooring. Once that was up I could remove the sub floor.

What greeted me will haunt me for ever.

Andy had joined the toilet to the sewer with a flexible pipe which had ruptured, spewing unmentionable stuff into the floor space.

It was disgusting and smelly. It took a long time to clean using my Henry hoover to suck everything up.

I removed the defective pipe and blocked the sewer pipe with an old piece of curtain.

I covered everything up planning to have a massive clean-up tomorrow.

That was not a day I wished to repeat.

28th August 2019

The only remotely interesting thing that happened came from Kelli in the US.

Single handedly she was keeping Bristol Cottage furniture going by doing what she does best, thrifting.

She managed to pick up a couple of dressers that need some loving care.

She set to work with sash clamps and glue to make them solid again.

she never sits on her ass, she is so inspiring.

27th August 2019

I was looking online for immigrant lawyers and found one in London.

I got through to a legal clerk who I gave my sad and sorry story to.

He suggested I talk to one of the lawyers in the practice (for a fee of course) and to get proper legal advice.

I had a simple question. What would be the possibility of getting a non-immigrant visa if I was declined the first time?

He told me that there would be a 99% chance that I would be declined again.

That made me feel really wonderful, the rock in my stomach came back again.

He went on to say that the Immigrant visa would be the best option, but it would take between six to eight months.

He then went on to say, making sure that his comments could not be construed as proper advice, that I should attend the second interview, as I had nothing to lose. The stars could be in my favour, and if the 1% positive chance comes up I could get my visa and travel. I would then have the option once I got there I could put in my application for residency.

“But isn’t that illegal?” I said.

“It means that you would have to stay in the US until the process was completed, so you couldn’t travel back to the UK, or return to the US until the process was complete”. the lawyer replied.

“Isn’t that visa fraud that everyone keeps referring to”?

“Yes but a lot of people do it that way”

I was getting confused, I was being told one thing and then another, one was the proper way the other, a back door method.

I needed to take time to think through my options.

26th August 2019

The full realisation of my visa predicament hit me like a punch to the face. The thought of not being with Kelli for a year was devastating. I have to navigate through a electronic process that will give me little opportunity to tell my story.

The fact is I overstayed by a day on my ESTA is the reason why I’m in this situation, but I have not found any information on the ESTA web site to show how this is calculated. There was no verbal information given by the boarder officer at my point of entry to raise any alarm, and give me an opportunity to change my return flight.

So really I was living blind to future events, and I could not do anything about it.

I was going to suspend my blog until the crap was over, but Kelli convinced me to continue with it.

This is a difficult time, and writing this blog is good therapy, and helps keep my grey sponge working, and boy do I need that.

25th August 2019

I managed seven hours sleep.

Messaging back and forth with Kelli, a plan was coming together. We both agreed that the immigration visa was the best option, but the process time was a killer. Anything temporary could jeopardise our future together, but we didn’t really know.

I needed to find an immigrant solicitor here to help me negotiate a safe passage through the bureaucracy.

24th August 2019

I still wanted to die. I had let Kelli down, and I still didn’t know what to do.

I was given a sheet of paper with the formal application denial written down.

It said that I could re-apply, so that was an option.

I painstakingly completed another application and logged it on the system. The closest interview date was 15th October at 10.00am.

This was another blow, making me and Kelli sicker than we already were.

The rest of the day was filled with searches and reading of all of the procedures. I learned of the seriousness of visa fraud and how if I had continued with it, and was found out, I could have been barred from entering the US for ever. At least I knew what I couldn’t do.

I felt bad all day, I had less than five hours sleep, and I wasn’t hungry.

Fortunately Kelli had gone on to Facebook asking if anyone could help and give us advice of what to do next.

She had a response from a friend who works for an immigration attorney, and would find out more on Monday.

In the meantime I had set in motion the new application process.

Kelli wanted to pursue the immigration visa as that was more secure and would eventually lead to full residency.

23rd August 2019

It would be very naive of me to think the 11.30 slot at the American Embassy would be just for me.

“Good Morning Mr Butt, the Ambassador will see you now”.

Instead I was greeted by hoards of bodies of every size, shape and colour in a snaking queue of which I had to join.

The email I was sent informed me that I should get there thirty minutes early, so I did, but it made no difference they were running late, so I had to wait.

Waiting is the name of the game, and although I dressed as smart as I could it made no difference, I was shuffled in with everyone.

I think there should have been two lines, one marked “Smartly dressed Englishmen” and the other for “ The scum of the earth”

At the end of three hours of utter boredom, my world collapsed.

My application for a tourist visa was denied, and it was all my fault.

I happened to mention that I would like to explore the possibilities of applying for permanent residency, that was it.

I then had a lecture on the legality of going to the US on this type of visa with the intention of staying. I tried to pull back by saying that I wouldn’t explore, but his answer was that he had heard me say it, and he couldn’t ignore it.

He said I was applying for the wrong type of visa, and suggested I go for an Immigrant visa instead.

I was in shock and numb, and I still had to tell Kelli.

This was the worse conversation I ever had, and I guess it was the same for her.

The process is so automatic there was nobody to talk too, and get advice. I felt such a failure, and I was due to meet up with Tim Wallace afterwards, needless to say I was a bit pre-occupied for that.

I got back to the car for the drive down to Barrington. My head was spinning, I felt sick, and I didn’t know what to do next.