I've been feeling a bit down recently, partly post-Christmas blues, partly no work coming in, partly money's tight.

When I last had a major downer, when I was going through divorce and child custody issues, I wrote. That was when, in 2008, some of my stories started and many of the story threads I imagined are now being written into something coherent.

So I've been writing plenty, averaging 2500 words a day, but that's because I'm hardly stepping outside the door apart from essential shopping. However, that does give me the freedom to dress how I want - dress to be comfortable. I've been careful around my 13yo daughter for the past few years but nothing seems to faze her so many of my skirts are getting an airing. What did help here was her seeing me in a frock and full makeup at a Filipino Haloween party a few months back.

Anyway, one risk is that someone will come to the door who is likely to blab to all and sundry, I am not out to many and definitely not my mother (who blames much of my divorce woes on my 'dressing'). On Friday the door bell sounded and, as I was there I opened the door automatically. Stood there was my landlord who did an up & down of me although I was in slacks at that time. He was done with me within a minute and left, I wonder what form our next encounter will take?

Thursday night however something very different. The flat above me in this block has a problem family who were relocated from another county. The mother's idea of child management is to shout and swear at them, calling them worthless beings. One is 15, two are under ten years old and one is a toddler. They are all known to the relevant agencies and are under a recurring 'final notice' from their landlord (the town council) for antisocial behaviour.

Ten-ish on Thurs evening there's a load of shouting and swearing going on. My daughter comes from her roomas it's woken her up. There's doors slamming, shouting in the stairwell but I can't hear the kids at first. Then the 15yo screams and I dial the police (999 in the UK). They attend in 7 minutes and take away the 18yo son who was 'visitng'. All is quiet but I checkin with one of the other residents on facebook IM to let her know I had called the police.

At 0020 he's back and starts straight away.I can hear the kids whimpering and I fear for them. I call 999 again and quote the log number from earlier, three officers were on the scene in 90 seconds (That's a genuine time). They take him away a second time and I find out later he's been taken to the custody suite in the next town and wasn't released until 1330.

I do not intend to tell the mother I called the police as no doubt I will be in the wrong. It turns out I wasn't the only caller either. I emailed the council officer responsible but didn't get a reply. I also emailed a police community officer who's familiar with the family and she'll talk to the council. The irony here is that social services appears to have placed them so the council doesn't want to move them, nor throw them out. So, they get away with plenty.

They weren't here when I moved in 3 years ago and I hope that 2015 is the year I see the back of them. I fear for the children but none of the agencies want to listen, the 15yo is at the same school as my daughter (different year) and had been sent to a behavioural unit but is back at the school. The youngest are in a nearby primary (elementary) school and I've tried talking to the Head there but they are reticent to do anything. Talking to social services is a pot-luck affair as I know from my own experiences.

So, I do what I can.

While there's no work and while I'm still down I will write.

Shiraz