Don’t Stop Moving

After all these months of pain, stress, worry, frustration, heartburn and tedious moaning on my blog, we were fnally scheduled to move last Friday…………….and it didn’t fecking happen.

Yep, we have seldom suffered a week so stressful, frustrating and infuriating. All of the issues sat with our buyer’s buyer, which made things harder as we were always just getting Chinese whispers via our estate agent. The story seemed to change with every update, and we went several days with seemingly no communication at all coming from what appears to be the shittest legal conveyancing firm on the planet. For most of the week, it was said that the delay/lack of confirmation was all down to the lender and whether they could release the funds in time. Now, looking back, I would struggle to articulate all that happened and the circumstances which led to us still being sat in our old house.

As we approached the middle of the week we still didn’t know whether we were moving on Friday. We assumed not, but nobody could get, so it appeared, a definitive answer from the buyer at the bottom of our chain.

At some point in the week, I forget when exactly, our estate agent rang with the first proper update. It turned out that when the 26th of February was proposed and everyone said they were ready, the first time buyer at the bottom declared that they were without confirming that with either their estate agent or solicitor who, maybe, could have told them that they were not ready. So naïve buyers, with bobbins estate agents and solicitors, made for a perfect storm of incompetence and ultimately a disappointment.

If anyone still cares, it took until Wednesday for them to share what the actual issue was. Let me regale you with the inane triviality of what has delayed four house moves.

The house being sold by our buyer apparently had a clause in the lease that said that the ground rent can be renegotiated every 25 years for the first 100 years. It’s a relatively new house so that could happen four times in total. The lender wanted an indemnity policy from the seller, (our buyer) to cover the “risk” that the ground rent could be raised by such an amount that the buyer would then not be able to afford to repay their mortgage. As unlikely a scenario as that may be, why was this not addressed in all the weeks and months that we have all been sat waiting for legal folks to do legal things? When it was raised, it was resolved in less than 24 hours. How we laughed.

So with that done, on Thursday, I think, we had a call from our solicitor telling us that our buyer’s solicitor had contacted her to say everything was now in place. That double proactivity astounded me. Even now just a few days later I can’t really make sense of the sequence of events if I am honest. Life is so busy at the minute my arse and elbow are unacquainted, but at some point, on Thursday or Friday, all parts of the chain agreed that the 5th of March was the new date. It takes 5 days for lenders to send money apparently so that was the soonest safest date to choose. It’s funny how I can send money immediately to anyone just using my iPhone but there you go.

It has been one of the most unpleasant and stressful weeks we have ever known. That will sound over dramatic and even now looking back on it, I wonder how we felt like that, but buried deep in the eye of the storm, it felt like the world was ending.

Still, at least that delayed broadband order I moaned about last week won’t matter as by the time we get in that should all be working. Also, months ago we ordered a new sofa for the lounge thinking that we’d be in the new house for ages before it was ready on the 8th of March. So this new date timed perfectly to have that delivered just a couple of days after we moved in. That was of course until we had a call from the furniture place on Friday, a few hours after getting our new date, saying that our new sofa was delayed till the end of March, because of Brexit. If you follow me on Twitter you may have got a hint that I have some reservations about the sunlit uplands of Brexit, so this piece of news delighted me more than Farage’s glee at another dinghy being sighted off the English coast.

We have lots of luck, but most of it is bad.

With my head spinning from all of the above, plus a really busy/stressful time at work for both Louise and me, somehow, I managed to squeeze in a couple of thoughts about our holiday. It’s a big deal to me at all times so this won’t be too shocking. I think it was last week that the incompetent haystack in Number 10 made some announcements about lifting restrictions that would be data-driven not date driven. He then followed that sentence by announcing a load of dates that everyone has now taken as gospel.

Somewhere in that mess of information was a date of June 21st when “everything goes back to normal” and all restrictions are lifted. This is great of course, were it to happen. However, even if the UK alone could determine that international travel would start again then, that is sadly a little late for us, with our June 14th departure date. Add to that, Disney saying that masks will be needed for all of 2021 and that is the death knell for our trip I think. Masks would be tough for us all in the June heat, but Freddie at three years old, would not understand why he needed one and the battle to have him wear one would very likely be a major issue on the whole trip.

So I’m doing nothing just yet, mainly as flight prices aren’t available for the dates in 2022 I might want, but I have resigned myself to having to pick up and move the whole thing again, or if that proves too hard just cancel and book again when the time is right. Of course, there could be some miracle where the US keeps doing vaccines at 2.5m a day (yep, that was yesterday’s figure) and things get so much better that Disney decides they can lift mask-wearing…..and we may be able to go later in summer/autumn, but I have very low to no hopes of that happening if I am honest.

Let us hope that our house move finally happening, spring starting to be visible on the horizon and the continued success of the vaccination programme all signal a change in our lives and fortunes and a return to some form of normality so that I can once again spend every penny of our disposable income on holidays.

If nothing else it may make your Sundays a little more bearable. Having been through this whole moving thing the obvious and only advice I can offer is, don’t.

Till the next time……

It’s A Date!

Thankfully for you dear reader, I will need to be brief this week as I have things to do.

I owe you an update on our move of course after all the moaning of the last few weeks and months. The week started in a maelstrom of frustration and stress and I was almost immediately onto my solicitor in yet another attempt to get things moving, literally.

I can’t remember the play by play breakdown of how things happened, but a few robust conversations were had followed by me pestering anybody even close to your chain. The two remaining queries that were awaited by our solicitor, remained as just that as we careered into Wednesday, and my conversations in those few days were along the lines of, WTF is it that is so hard about these two things that we sit here, six weeks after they were first raised, still waiting.

My solicitor could not understand that either. At one point I even got her on the phone, and despite my shock at that turn of events, I did manage to make that call useful by understanding a little more about what she was waiting for. My questioning was along the lines of….

“You and my seller’s solicitor do this all day everyday. Why are these two things proving beyond you?”

She assured me they were standard queries with what she called standard remedies and it just needed the other side to do something.

With that knowledge and a new level of frustration in hand, I went to our seller’s estate agent again, and began a conversation with the seller, urging him to kick his legal folks up the arse. It all came down to a missing page of the deeds (the house was originally built in the 1700’s so this was not a shock) and the seller needed to provide one more indemnity policy to protect us from whatever might be on that one page.

As a final testament to solicitor inertia and with all due respect to any conveyancing solicitor’s reading this (I know there may be at least one, hi Rhian!) I got a message back from the seller, via their estate agent along the lines of…

“I have seen a new policy from my solicitor. They haven’t told me what it is for or why it is needed, but I have accepted the costs and signed it for the sake of our collective sanity”.

How can I know what the policy was for and he not? It is his house!!

So with my opinion of solicitors damaged a little more, I told myself that I would give my solicitor till about 4.30 that day before calling her to see if she had received this final piece of the jigsaw. At around 4.10 an unknown number rang me on the mobile. The fact that we are six months into this move and my solicitor’s number is unknown to me, says all that needs to be said about the service we have received I think.

She was calling me to let me know that she now had all she needed and we would now be able to aim for a moving date of the 26th of February. This was a date already suggested to us by our very unimpressed buyer a few days earlier in a vain attempt to hurry us along. We needed no hurrying, just a competent legal team.

So there followed several minutes of relief, joy, and delight that we had saved our chain and preserved the chances of us ever moving into this bloody house. Shortly afterwards, the sheer scale of the work still required to get us ready to do so dawned and the stress returned.

It at least allowed me to move onto a load of tasks that I had been gagging to get done. The essentials such as broadband and a TV package needed ordering. The former being absolutely crucial with Emily and I working from home. So those were done along with quite a lot of address changing and informing utility companies of our move. With a following wind, we may actually have broadband in place by the time we get there.

So the long journey to a moving date is seemingly complete. Let’s hope we do not suffer in the same way as Rebecca and Tom, who had their moving date missed again on Friday, due to, you’ll never guess, their solicitor forgetting to do something! They are now lined up for next Wednesday.

I now need to leave you to survey the catastrophic state of our house and find some more things to put into boxes. This will be interspersed with me staring at large pieces of furniture and stressing about how on earth it will get transported to the new place. It’s how we roll these days.

Till the next time……

Louise Bought Me Expensive Hose

Hey, guess what? We STILL don’t know when we are moving house. Incredible isn’t it? With how quickly everything else has gone with the process so far it was nailed on that we’d be all sorted this week. Right?

Instead, it took all week, yes five working days, for a set of questions to go from our solicitors to the seller’s, get answered and get sent back. That doesn’t include our solicitor actually checking that they are happy with the answers. Oh no, that has been scheduled for next week, and if they do need further clarification, no doubt that will be another week down the swanny.

To say we are sick of the whole shit show is an understatement. We are trapped in this limbo of being half packed, but unable to do a massive list of tasks that can’t be done until we know when we will actually move.

In better news, after all sorts of shenanigans, stress and swearing, Rebecca and Tom are now scheduled to complete on their purchase on Tuesday. That is a relief and one worry off all our minds. At least they will be sorted and can crack on with the work and decorating it needs before they can move in.

Whoever finds a way to simplify, modernise and speed up the conveyancing process in the UK deserves to be a billionaire. It is literally unbelievable how unfit for purpose the whole thing is. As an example, despite the fact that legally, everything could still fall apart and we may not end up buying the house, we have had to take out buildings insurance on it, as the mortgage company insist on seeing that before they will release the money. So, if the worst happens, we will be the proud owner of an insurance policy on a house we don’t own, for a year.

I think much of my own stress is based on two things –

  1. I am building up the day of the actual move into a horror show that will probably never materialise. For some reason, I think the amount of stuff we have and how big and awkward a lot of our furniture is will be an insurmountable problem for removal folks who do this every day.
  2. I look around at the house and cannot imagine a time when it is totally packed up. The sheer scale of the job terrifies me and we can’t go full steam ahead until we have a date as we need a lot of the stuff for day to day living.

No matter the scale of carnage at the new place, when we are in with all our stuff and we wave off the removal van, I will breathe the largest sigh of relief known to man.

To give you some appreciation of the scale of disruption in the house right now, this is just one corner of our dining room.

To add insult to injury, last week also saw Louise’s car in for a service. It was only marginally cheaper than the house purchase. It has to return for a 2 day stay at the garage next week to complete all the work required. To save time, they have a kidney harvesting facility on-site now, so it’s a one-stop-shop.

Having had a bit of a week, yesterday I undertook some hard labour and carried a lot of boxes down from Emily’s bedroom. She is up in the loft so that was two flights of stairs per box. I then emptied the spare room, Rebecca’s old room, of 90% of the boxes in there too. This is why the dining room looks like it does. By mid-afternoon, after also clearing out and either binning or packing up some of the kitchen, I got a little tired and emotional. I think if any of you had tackled your “under the sink” cupboard, you too may have found that to be the straw that broke your back.

Louise went out to buy a new hosepipe. No, really, it makes perfect sense. It’s January, and we move in a few weeks so this was clearly at the top of our shopping list for understandable reasons.

Wanting to leave our house in the best state for the new occupants Louise decided she needed to jet wash the back yard. Personally, I thought the dark green shade of the flags went well with the overall aesthetic of the back of the house, but no, jet washing was to happen.

Of course, at the back end of the summer, our hose pipe had broken. So Louise came home with a new one yesterday. She asked if I would set it up and connect it to the jet wash. Sure thing. This will just take a couple of minutes, then I can have a sit-down and relax for a bit.

I’ve seen simpler instructions for rocket flight. It was ridiculous and my tired, patience deficient brain just would not onboard the 72 step process to get some water through a pipe. Louise had seemingly bought the most expensive hose in the place, which is not a phrase I can get onboard with unless it is for a special birthday treat.

Things were not helped by Louise suggesting she asked our neighbour or my Dad to do it as they were “better at this sort of thing”. Words were exchanged, at volume. Louise wandered off to get my Dad and in that time, I did manage to figure out at least the first few steps. My Dad arrived and fairly quickly water flowed into the jet wash and I retired indoors to evaluate my life choices.

Had you told me, back in the summer, when this whole house move thing started that my breaking point would be figuring out why a hosepipe had a spring that needed fitting somewhere in it, I may not have believed you. Further breaking points lie ahead I am sure. When I was younger, whatever ailment afflicted me, my Mum would say it was because I was tired. I have self-diagnosed the same thing for me at this time.

So another day lies ahead filled with takings thing out of places and putting them into boxes. Meanwhile, our solicitor might, if the mood takes her, at some time next week, brush the cobwebs off our file and casually glance at what the next steps may be so that we are in for Christmas.

The next time I move house, it will be me in the box being carried out of the house!

Till the next time…….

A Moving Post

With the holiday that wasn’t now out of the way and my significant birthday behind us, it feels like this could be a watershed moment. A very welcome chance for me to stop bloody moaning about the same stuff and try blogging about something else.

Well, OK. But let me just say that being back in a form of lockdown and not being able to see Rebecca, Tom and Freddie sucks the largest of hairy ballsacks. The growth of my sense of resentment about that is only beaten by the rate of knots by which the number on the scales is increasing.

With that being said, we can move on. Literally.

Back in the old days, there were times when I would blog about “normal things”. These weekly posts weren’t just me ranting about cancelled holidays and inconvenient viruses. Anyone remember that?

In the spirit of that moving on, I can report to you today that, not content with battling a pandemic, rescheduling a wedding (twice) and losing out on a holiday, we have decided to move house too.

A few weeks ago I reported that we were wrestling with the dilemma of either moving or improving our modest abode. For the last few weeks, maybe months, we have literally been flip-flopping between the two options. Endlessly scrolling through Rightmove, pointlessly looking for a house we were in no position to buy, mainly to judge whether, if we did sell, would there be something we could afford that would get us what we want, alongside looking at photos of houses that had “extended” in the way we planned to.

We did venture down the improving route for a while, but the costs involved could have built the US/Mexico border wall twice over and for a house not worth that much in the grand scheme of things, that size of investment for “a bit more kitchen” just didn’t make any sense.

So the decision sort of made itself, and we have recently been through the process of readying our place to go on the market. All those DIY tasks that you ignore if you didn’t plan to sell needed to be done and after a variety of valuations, some comedic at both ends of the scale, on Friday our For Sale board went up. Yesterday we had our photos done and hopefully, in the next couple of days, we shall appear on the internet.

Having moved house just three times in my adult life, that is more than enough to have me dreading every second of the process. These early days seem to involve looking at the same twenty houses on the internet that match your search criteria and getting stupidly excited when a new one appears. Seconds later, when it is dismissed as not suitable you are back to scrolling through your regulars again. Should we sell quickly, the fun and games of finding somewhere to live will really begin.

What do we want?

Ideally, a 4 bed, with a large drive, garden and one of them cliched family-style open plan kitchens. If it can be within five minutes of where we live now that would be a bonus too. Shouldn’t be too hard, should it? You will, without doubt, be told how hard or easy that turns out to be in glorious detail as the weeks go by.

I like to offer variety here and the anticipation you must feel, not knowing if you will get moaning about the virus, not going on holiday or moving house is almost spoiling you.

I bet you wish I was still papping on about the holiday now, right?

Speaking of which…you knew I couldn’t resist. My expectations of being able to go next March change on an almost daily basis. Right at this moment, I’d say I am slightly leaning towards it being possible. I can’t really articulate clearly why I feel that way. We have what is going to be a very challenging winter ahead of us and anything could happen, but ultimately it feels like as time goes by the world is learning to live with this thing a little more. You may remind me of this unusual optimism when I am undoubtedly proved wrong. Hopefully, we’ll at least be in our new house by then with all that horror behind us!

Till the next time……

Now then, where were we?

So I’ve been droning about work woes now for about five or six weeks, and like one of those attention seeking folk on social networking sites, I’ve been doing the equivalent of posting one of those obtuse woe is me status updates hoping lots of folk will ask what is going on.

I apologise.

Last week was a biggie in lots of ways, and I can’t believe so much happened.  However, it was the culmination of many, many weeks of hard slog, worry, tears and desperation.

About six weeks ago, through no fault of my own (I think) I found myself having to find myself a new job.  I understand that I am no doubt one of many in this situation right now.  The story behind this coming to be is complex and not routine, but not worth repeating here, but it was very scary, especially when you are just about to move house, and have an expensive holiday to go on!

It felt like I’d jumped off a tall building and I could see financial disaster rushing towards me like the ground rising to meet me.  Scary stuff.  So for the past few weeks I have been working very hard trying to rectify that situation.  I have interviewed until I am sick of talking about myself.  During that time, I cannot claim to have coped in the best way, and I have been a bit of a nob to live with.  Louise deserves a medal, and the extended family have helped, worried and supported impressively.

Mood swings, depression, loss of confidence, anger, hopelessness and a bit more anger were just a few of the emotions that I swept through most days.  At the risk of glossing over these weeks and not giving them the soul crushing respect they deserve here, I will cut to the chase and say that last Monday saw me receive an offer for a job with a great company that will also allow us to continue to pay the bills, move house and of course most importantly still go on holiday.  It is all about priorities.

I knew last Sunday that an offer would be coming but I didn’t know the details of the package, and when that email arrived in all its acceptable glory, the relief felt was immense.  All the pressures and worries of the last six weeks were released, and it is hard to describe how that felt.

So with that in the bag, we then had the small matter of moving house to contend with, as of course after months of delay and faff, it conspired that the moving date fell in the same week as the job thing getting resolved.

The stress of moving house and all the crap that always comes with that, when added to the job thing have made for what have been the most stressful few weeks of my life.  I know I haven’t yet had to contend (thank God) with any real problems that affect a loved ones health or even worse, but indulge me, it’s been crap!

So as we entered the home strait of the house move, everything seemed to be sorted for last Friday, until that is, we got to last Wednesday evening.  The details aren’t worth repeating but someone in the chain had a crap bank and/or solicitor, and they were very doubtful that they could process all the stuff in time for Friday.  This nonsense carried on until 4.45pm on Thursday, when we finally got word from our solicitor (who was bloody marvellous throughout) that we were on for the following day after all.

To accommodate that moving date for the benefit of the whole chain, we had agreed to a day when Louise would be at University, doing something she could not miss, so I would be supervising alone.  A worry to anyone sane!

girls old house
One last time at *that* door

girls old house oli
and with added Oli

Then, after what had been a full week of hard slog, packing, tipping and sorting our stuff the day of the move dawned and turned out to be the wettest day of the year.  We got absolutely drenched as we began early in the morning, and stayed that way until late into the day at the new house.

We had help of course from all the parents, and we ended the day in the house, with beds to sleep in, and three very stressed and unhappy cats!!  Just to add some spice to the day, our friends at Nat West decided to pull a plug out in a server room somewhere, and bring the financial system to a grinding halt.  This meant that no monies could be moved on moving day, and this posed the risk of us having to leave the furniture in the van over the weekend and wait until Monday to move in.

Thankfully, our solicitor worked some actual magic and used something called a Licence (I have no idea) to enable the whole chain to move, and fingers crossed all the money stuff will happen tomorrow.

We have of course spent the weekend unpacking and sorting the new house, fixing broken stuff we didn’t know about and buying new stuff.  Today, my Dad and I have also knocked down a wall in the loft, which will create a huge bedroom for Emily.  Whilst we do that Emily is sleeping at my Mum and Dad’s house, but this isn’t too bad, as we have moved next door to them!

Just to cap off a quiet weekend, we went out yesterday and changed Louise’s car!!  We’d been meaning to for a while, but an upcoming tax disc requirement, and the enormous running costs of her current car made us actually go out and get a more economical model, befitting her new status of student!  She is getting a Peugeot 107.  It is only two years old, so a lot younger than her current car, costs £20 per year to tax, and does about 60 mpg, compared to the 26mpg she is currently enjoying!

So it’s been a bit full on recently, and a period of time that I do not wish to repeat at any point in the future.

Just before all this kicked off I was just beginning to enjoy planning the holiday, having picked out some new eateries to try and deciding to take my Mum and Dad to the baseball etc.  All of that has been very much on the back burner for obvious reasons, and it has only been since Monday that we knew we would be able to go on holiday after all.

I intend now to get back into full planning mode now that house and job are done.  I have ESTAs to do, baseball tickets to buy, theme park tickets to research, and all the usual fun of the fair associated with the last few weeks before one of our adventures. Bring it on!

So for the downbeat nature of my recent bloggage I apologise.  I have also been pretty absent from other social media outlets, but have made somewhat of a comeback this weekend when time allowed.  To say I feel better is the biggest understatement since Jimmy Carr said he’s made an error of judgement.

The next few weeks sees me start my new job on Tuesday, so that will worry and occupy me a little more than just turning up for work as normal, but I am glad to have that problem believe me.  Between that and the work associated with doing Emily’s bedroom and other new house stuff, I hereby dedicate all other available time to Disney planning, sarcastic tweeting and inane Facebookery.  You have my word.  Countdown wise we are at 55 days.  Good grief I have much ground to make up!


Till the next time…..

Achy Breaky Body

There’s a reason that I don’t do a job that involves manual labour.  Well, there may be a few reasons, but the main one is that I’d be dead by Wednesday of the first week.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve put a hell of a shift in this weekend moving stuff and boxes, and more stuff, and oh, so that’s where that went to.  Two full days of non stop manual labour and my body is literally rebelling.  At around lunch time today still with endless amounts to move, my system started to go into shutdown mode.  I finally understood the phrase being out on your feet.

To stave off these feelings I have of course been shoving as many calories down my throat as I’ve been able to, starting this morning with a traditional Father’s Day breakfast.

I had to wait a little while, as I was up at 6.30.  Oli checked to see if I was awake at that time by jabbing his huge wet nose into my forehead a dozen times, and by that time, yes, I was awake.  I stumbled out of the bedroom into the hall (don’t forget, we are in the ex-garage downstairs) and saw what looked like a scene from Alien.

After a hard day’s work yesterday, my Mum & Dad treated us all to a massive Chinese takeaway at their house, mainly as we were too weak to even open the fridge.  On the menu were spare ribs, and Oli partook in about two dozen too many, and this led to him revisiting them all over the floor.  Just as I was finishing the mop up operation, Louise wandered in saying she’d do it and I should go to bed.  Yep, that’s right, just as I was finishing!!

Once awake, the brain was whirring, and sleep was long since gone.  I was up comparing car insurance by 7am!  Some hours later, the girls made it downstairs with their eyes almost fully open, and wished me a Happy Father’s Day, and thrust a Cinderella gift bag at me.  Inside were a card, and my present, a T-shirt, with the phrase Grouch Potato on it.  I didn’t even think to object.  After a few more minutes of banging and clattering, I was presented with a breakfast fit for a King.  Waffles, squirty cream and strawberries.  No full English, as I used to get when they were too young to do it themselves and Louise would do the honours.  Left to their own devices, operating the microwave and the can of cream is the full extent of their culinary skills.

It was delicious though.  With the festivities over, work once again began, with us shifting endless boxes from our current house to the new one.  We don’t exchange until this coming Friday, but as I’ve mentioned, we’re buying from family so this means we’ve been allowed access early to dump all the crap from the shed into our new cellar.  If this deal falls through now, I’m afraid it is staying right there and can be sold to the next buyer as a feature!

moving man
Not actually me.

Louise isn’t able to get out of Uni on Friday on our moving day, so she will not be around for most of the day.  I wasn’t quick enough to think of a similar excuse so it looks like I’ll be in charge.  Anything could happen.

So ten years, almost to the day, are drawing to an end at our current address.  With the way this whole move has gone, should Louise suggest moving again anytime this millenia, she will encounter the full extent of my wrath.  Then we’ll more than likely just move again!

In other news earlier in the week, I have been out and about a bit visiting all four corners of the British Isles…well Nottingham, Knutsford and Liverpool…geography wasn’t my strongest subject.  These work related travels are showing signs of bearing some worthwhile fruits, and I hope to be in a much better place in that regard pretty soon.  I do not wish to jinx this as I said last week, so until you hear some fat woman singing, I shall remain the elusive, charismatic, handsome enigma that I am.

Oh yes, I have also had a cold!! I suspect my body has been fooled into thinking this is November by the lovely weather we’ve been enduring.  There is less moistness on the front row of a One Direction concert.

wdw programme
Programme not program!

This week has also brought some discussion with Emily on her plans after college.  She isn’t too interested in University, despite her predicted grades being pretty pleasing, and so she has it seems been researching and plotting her course.  She is going to apply for Disney’s Cultural Representative Programme, which is a 12 month placement working in WDW.       This sounds great, and so we’ll be working on that with her until November when the application process opens.  If anyone has done it, or know someone who has, Emily would love any advice or insight you might have on the application and interview process.

So, progress on a few fronts.  I have an empty shed, some boxes already in the new house, a sniff of something like good news with my “issues” at work, and an ache in every muscle in my work addled body.

Now, I must return to the calorie consumption before I wither away into nothingness.  If things pan out as I hope in the coming days, next week shall be a return to full blown WDW planning.  You have been warned.

Till the next time…..

Bubble wrap, boxes and far too many boats!

We’re packing.  Alas not for a holiday, but for the move.

With ten years having elapsed the amount of absolute junk we have accumulated is staggering.  This is despite having to jettison a load when we did the garage conversion last year.  Bubble wrap has been acquired, boxes purloined, and every room bears the scars of the battleground that is Williams v Junk.

Pop it!

It is amazing what you find in these circumstances though.  The girls have today remembered that they own (amongst a million other long forgotten objects retrieved from under a bed or drawer) a Gameboy and a Nintendo DS, with a vast library of games.  These now sit on eBay hoping for a bid or three.

This afternoon Louise and I ventured into the dark expanse of horror that is…..THE LOFT!  It was strewed with bin bags full of summer clothes, photos (remember when you used to get them printed?), and a vast array of games consoles from across the past decade or two.  Those along with two PCs, with monitors large enough to house a small family have been wrestled down from the roof space and taken along to the tip.  I am such good terms with high vis vest man at the tip that I think I’m going to be best man at his wedding.

Before tipping said PCs, I gently (ahem) removed the hard drives from them just to make sure that no-one got their hands on the porn, I mean personal data held upon them.  I then employed a team of six bodybuilders to help me carry each of the HUUUGGEE PC monitors bought in the 90’s, into the mondeo.  The audible groan from the trusty Ford could be heard for miles.

Our spare room is now just a giant pile of bin bags and guff that we need to sort through.  That is our long weekend spoken for then.

Still it could have been worse, I could have had to watch a thousand boats go down a river in the pissing rain and cold.  I caught a few minutes of this debacle on the BBC today and it was, pardon my french, piss poor.  The fact that five hours of telly was devoted to it is mind blowing.  I salute those having to commentate on it.  Next week they are to make paint drying sound exciting.

I can’t have been the only person to wish that they had employed one of the Disney guys to organise this boats floating past a queen thing.  I mean, have they not seen Fantasmic?  It certainly would have made the whole thing more bearable for her Maj and those unfortunate enough to have made the journey to witness it to.  Imagine the profit from the sale of ponchos too!

Exciting much?

That’s more like it

I hope you all enjoy your extra two days off.  Personally, I could do without them.  I know that sounds silly, but at some point in the near future I’ll tell you why.  I am still working through “work issues”, and if you aren’t bored of them yet, I sure am.  Hopefully, very soon I shall emerge from the darkness and into the proverbial light, and get back to blog’s full of Disney planning and ludicrous innuendo.

Till the next time…..