I've gotta moooooooh-ve*

The men and their van moved the result of my hoardings on Saturday.

All moved in (except all the bits I forgot to pack and left behind, including my passport of course).

Hardly any boxes unpacked but the beds are made and failure to locate ballerina pumps to go out Saturday night meant the lace up boots got an airing.

Being tasked to get the internet working meant the first guest at the new address and MFC didn't notice it was past 11 by the time I locate the pan to make breakfast. It looks like starvation didn't affect their ability to get things to get things to work - Yeah.

Tonight's lucky dip will be... trying to locate enough uniform bits to dress The Boy on tuesday morning.

*title courtesy of Ben Kweller

1.4.07 19:42


The Proof

I have been saying for ages that the cat is going senile. Tonight I got irrefutable proof that the animal is losing its marbles.

Him Indoors had bought a worming tablet from the vet's surgery in anticipation of my visit to collect some of the bits and bobs I left behind (peccadilloes like my passport and cheque book, honestly I am not always *that* scatty).

I grabbed a towel in the bathroom, picked up a rather cooperative cat. Faced with a total lack of resistance I wrapped the towel quite loosely around the ball of fur at which point the animal started to purr.

I slid a finger in the side of his mouth where the vet extracted a couple of teeth a couple of years ago expecting a bit of a struggle. Instead of having to tighten the towel and watch out for signs of biting, the cat offered a wide open mouth and swallowed the pill and purred even louder as I rubbed its throat to help it go down.

Next it'll forget where its bowl is... 
2.4.07 21:22


Huzzah

Thanks to MFC and his Waitrose shopping ways the fridge does not smell like a rodent crawled all the way round the M25 then up the road to die in it.

The number of boxes still to be unpacked is now under 20.

The playstation has been located and I now have a not so secret but certainly infalable tactic to try and distract my opponents at Tetris when beer is impairing my control of the falling shapes.

I am beginning to  find my bearings in the new area and while it does not feel familiar yet I am liking the walks and the pubs on offer (although the smell of horse manure in one particular part of the High Street still takes me by surprise, and not a very pleasant surprise at that).



   
10.4.07 21:48


Lazing on a Sunday afternoon...

Since the weather was decidedly summer like inspiration for the week-end was more in the vein of the Kinks than an unpacking marathon.

Since they came recommended live and I'd enjoyed the album I got tickets so I could drag MFC to Kilburn to see Butcher Boy and very good they were too. There were guitars, sweeties in a paper bag being passed around (never accept sweets from strangers even if they are the lead singer of the band), a "LOVED" stamped on hands which I managed to keep there until Saturday evening despite my often mocked borderline OCD hand washing habits and one of those what a small world we live in encounter .

Since it would have been a shame not to make the most of the balmy weather Saturday was lets hunt for an non crowded part of London for a walk. So there was walking in the City, bratwurst near Smithfield market , walking along the Thames at low tide and climbing a ladder and last but not least a trip to Shoreditch to purchase a housewarming present.

Since I left the camera behind I did not get a chance to capture the jetsam under the bridges, the graffiti that made me smile, the "cheap booze" sign,. Sadly there will be no pictorial of teh achievement either. See faced with flooded access to the steps on the Thameside rather than backtrack to where we'd accessed the flats I agreed to attempt to return to the bank via the metal ladder bolted to the wall, considering I am scared of heights to the point of feeling wobbly standing on a chair it was no mean feet and I felt like the cat that got the cream.

Sunday, it came to a toss up between unpacking and trying not to spontaneously combust while eating roast dinner in the beer garden of the local. Only one guess allowed to which side the rhetorical coin happen to fall.

16.4.07 19:30


Cardboard city is no longer

Boxes are all unpacked, including the books. I admit the books were a bit of rushed job and they are in no particular order and due to lack of shelve space they are lined 2 to 3 volumes deep with extra stacked on top. I even found a place for the books purchased in 3 for 2 offers which were picked as the 3rd one I didn't really want but just "had to get" else I'd feel I had been done and never read and the throwaway whodunnits that I can't get round to giving away (maybe if I keep them long enough I'll forget the story and be able to read them again right?).

Maybe I shouldn't claim victory too early. After all I am sure there's still a few boxes worth of my "stuff" still cluttering Him Indoors' house that may find their way here at some point.

On as side note: why is it that despite having enough clothes to fill a wardrobe and a shelving unit to bursting I don't appear to have anything to wear. Also why is it as I am trying to hunt down some nice summery tops to wear in the beer garden of my new local fashion has dictated that the only items available in the shop should make anybody who isn't a tiny 15 year old look pregnant? Not exactly a flattering look.

17.4.07 21:40


Quick week-end summary

Kite people

Horton Park, struggling with a deflating tire, pit stop at the forge, riding in the woods, being the map lady, saddle sore, road sense of a pheasant, reconnaissance walk, bird pooh and car wash, Kites over Streatham Common, KFC picnic, demanding to grow up, the importance of the last minute of independence, crowded skies, early birthday present and the soporific powers of fresh air.

 
23.4.07 22:13


10 Reasons Why I hate British Gas

  1. They have some really lovely call centre people on their home moving team who lure you into a sense of false security and then they launch the worst call centre staff in the whole of the UK on you without warning.
  2. They send you letters confirming that the transfer of the electricity supply to them has been cancelled. What they will fail to mention is that in the process they also cancelled the gas supply account you had set up with them when you moved.
  3. They will then send a letter addressed to "the occupier" threatening to cut off the gas supply if you don't pay up now the estimated bill of the previous tenant who doesn't believe in paying his utility bills any more than he believes in paying his rent, or his car tax, or his TV licence or his council tax (I have to say Epsom Council employ some rather polite bailiffs but that's another story).
  4. When you call them to  explain that there is no way you are paying somebody else's bill and why are they even sending it to the occupier when they know who you are since you called them with you details, a moving date and a gas meter reading you will be talking to a badly trained call centre drone (in the UK so I can't even blame his uselessness on a poor grasp on English *sigh*).
  5. They will then not find any records of you ever calling them or any readings.
  6. They will fail to grasp why you are so angry at being the one who is paying for the phone bill trying to sort out the mess they created and will maintain that it is not possible for somebody to call you back once it is sorted, no, no, no, no, no.
  7. The drone will then maintain they have a right to recover the money owed to them by any means possible and if that means cutting off my gas supply then so be it and that I have to pay.
  8. Eventually they will put you through one of the better trained to handle angry customers member of staff who will be more helpful and find your records and the reading and promise to rectify proving it was possible to find you in the first place and that the first drone could have found you in the first place.
  9. The only way they give you a prompt payment discount is if you sign up for direct debit. Considering #7 I'd rather walk on broken glass than hand them over the key to my bank account.
  10. They took nearly an hour of my time tonight that I'm never getting back and meant our first trip to the new library was seriously reduced in time and I did not get a chance to find out if they had any books on flying stunt kites. Still The Boy and I have our new library cards thanks to our first utility bill to confirm our new address and The Boy has found a book on pet rats.


I feel a switch to a different supplier coming, say, one that stopped sending me the previous guy's bills one I sent them a copy of the tenancy agreement as proof of the date I was moving and removed association of his name to the address. One that sent me the list of prices I asked for. One that gives me a discount if I pay promptly regardless of the method of payment I chose and one whose call centre staff are merely average but which doesn't alternate between lovely and diabolical... hum hard choice.

better </rant> I suppose 
24.4.07 21:28


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