It was a pleasure to meet up with my old friend Michael B today, in Paddington. Yes, after ten years, we managed to be in the same place at the same time once again! We caught up on our careers (well, his) and our travels. He’s still very interested in hospital radio, which is great, podcasting and writing.
A shout-out to Marie as well, another friend with whom I met up a couple of days ago, over in Orpington. We had a good chat and a coffee.
Both will be very welcome to visit us in our new, northern home, in the fullness of time. As will anyone else that we don’t meet up with one final time before we move on.
And last night Liesel and I went out to see Jeremy Nicholas again, this time at the Museum of Comedy. His show, ‘After Dinner Stories from my Disastrous Broadcasting Career’, was much more slick than last time. Some stories have gone, some new ones are in. And no drunken heckler. Go and see him in Edinburgh if you’re there in August.
And what a fascinating venue. Lots of artefacts from the world of comedy. I don’t know if this is the one from Steptoe and Son, but here is a picture of Liesel with a bear behind:
On this day in 1973, David Bowie’s ‘Life on Mars?’ was released as a single. It’s still one of our favourite songs of his and it’s still fascinating to hear which radio presenters play it right to the end. When the phone rings, I emit a small cheer and Liesel rolls her eyes.
So here’s the news you’ve come along for… Our solicitor called early this morning to tell us that we’ve exchanged on both our sale and our purchase! Liesel and I had a bit of a hug and a cry and a bit of a dance, such a relief! We’re definitely moving out on July 2nd, the lorry will be loaed up with our stuff which will move into the flat on the 3rd: the poor removal guys will set off at 5 o’clock that morning. As described a few days ago, if the flat becomes unavailable for some reason, we have storage booked. So, yes, definitely moving out!
So now, the emotion will begin to set in fully. It has a bit already, as we’ve been packing up stuff from 33 years in this house.
We’ve packed up well over half the contents of the house and we’ve set ourselves the target of finishing off by Friday, disposing of the stuff we don’t want, such as the washing machine that should have been replaced a long time ago.
The bottom line is, we still don’t know if we’re moving into a flat or into storage.
We are proceeding at a pace with the packing. So much stuff. There are at least five boxes of photos. Actual printed photos. It’s been on the to-do list for years, and I think it’s on everyone’s list: sort out the old photos. We really feel that progress is being made, though. There is a nice pile of stuff to pass on to the children as soon as is convenient. (Don’t tell them.)
A removal man came along this afternoon to give us a quote.
It’s official: estate agents lie. This week, again, we tried to find out when our flat would be vacant. The agent said that because they’re moving into a newly built house that isn’t finished yet, they would never give a date.
But they gave us a date right at the start. They said May. Later revised to mid-June due to a spell of bad weather. But now they can’t give us a date because anything could go wrong. The agent couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see that they’d given us dates before so there can’t be hard and fast rules about getting dates from builders. Also, being told May, at the time, fitted in perfectly with our plans. If they’d said then that they had no idea when they’d be able to move out, I doubt that we would have put in an offer, regardless of how good the property is.
Our seller is under stress now, said the agent, as she tries to confirm with her solicitor that they can exchange this week and complete on 2nd July. I didn’t take the bait and tell that actually, we’re quite stressed out too. Yesterday, she regurgitated a conversation I’d had with her on 2nd March. I explained that the situation is totally different now.
Anyway, that’s where we are.
Freegle is a great resource: you can get total strangers to come to your house and take stuff away. I’ll miss the old 1990s stereo system that hasn’t worked properly for years. The record player was disposed of years ago. Buttons on the cassette player broke many moons ago. If you play a CD, it usually skips the first time, but is OK if you restart. Plus, one of the speakers only works intermittently. The FM aerial is meh. The AM aerial is meher. Other than that, it’s in perfect working order. I recorded may radio programmes on it in the olden days.
It’s a lovely sunny day, we should be outside enjoying the weather, not inside packing and emptying the loft. Maybe we’ll go for an early evening stroll, after the man’s picked up his stereo system!
On this day in 2014, we went to the British Museum to see The Vikings Exhibition. We went with Myra, Sarah’s Mum and found it a very interesting display. They certainly got around, those Vikings. We ate at a Turkish restaurant afterwards. I must have been suffering from my earlier fast though, as there are, unusually, no photos.
Yes, I fasted for 12 hours overnight prior to my free old farts’ health check with the GP. This is when the rot set in. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure but as I was training for a long bike ride, I chose not to start taking medication until after that event. So, in the following November, I started taking anti-hypertension medication. Wow: shortness of breath, no stamina, I felt horrible. Even after a change of drugs, I still felt ridiculously weak and feeble.
Once I stopped working for Royal Mail, the BP dropped to fairly normal and I stopped taking the medication. But here I am, two years on, still with nowhere near the stamina I once had. I don’t have dizzy spells as often as I did back then, but every now and then, if I stand up too quick, I feel all wobbly. I know there are risks with high blood pressure, but really, I was much better off before I knew I ever had high blood pressure!
But that’s all in the past. The really exciting news is that Liesel had been talking to a Travel agent about our travels. All very exciting but the bad news is, I forgot we had to pay for it. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, but the schedule so far looks quite breathtaking, although subject to change: Vancouver, Anchorage, New Zealand, Australia, Japan, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Singapore, Thailand, Botswana. This will be much more fun to write about when the time comes than all this house-moving mallarkey.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve looked at the wall where the clock used to be. It’s a surprise every time. Then I remember, it’s been packed. All the pictures have been taken down too and bubble-wrapped. We have twelve boxes of books, seven of CDs and DVDs and several more boxes yet to fill.
Yes, we’ve caught the disease from Jenny and our house is sagging under the weight of filled and empty cardboard boxes. Aha, so we have a moving date in mind, you’ll assume. Well don’t assume anything, as they say, you’ll just make an ass of u and me.
We received an email from our solicitor this morning telling us that our vendors are still waiting for replies to their searches and enquiries. A process that we followed several weeks ago, and we assumed they had too. See what I mean about making assumptions? We thought the hold-up at their end was that their new-build house isn’t finished yet. But no, it’s admininstration that could and should have taken place weeks, if not months, ago.
The sellers’ agent waffled a bit while I was on the phone, I didn’t get a definitive moving date, so reluctantly, we threatened to pull out of the whole thing.
We want to get out of this house so that we can get on with our travels. There are reasons why we want to be in Alaska as soon as possible and not just because of its blink-and-you-miss-it Summer.
Plan B is to put all our stuff into storage for a year so that’s what we’ve arranged. A nice Big Yellow Storage room in (or somewhere close to) Cheadle. We’ll be homeless, yes, but the stuff will be as safe as possible, and we can look for a house when we get back. Scary, Mary. Ideally, we’d prefer Plan A, to move into the flat, which is still the best one we’ve found while searching online. And far better than any of the others that we actually went to look at.
This week, then, we’ll carry on with the packing up, dismantling the old stereo system and shelf units, disposing of items that we’re not keeping and that our buyer doesn’t want us to leave behind. We believe she’s keen to exchange soon and to complete maybe within a couple of weeks. And if we get the bulk of the packing done, we’ll celebrate by going into London and having some fun at the weekend.
I can’t remember the exact details but I suspect that this is the sort of nonsense that led Sarah and I to vow that we would never, ever again, move house when we first moved here, 33 years ago.
While we’re looking back: On this day in 2011, Liesel and I saw Alison Steadman in Noël Coward’s Blithe Spirit at London’s Apollo Theatre. We enjoyed her performance…
In 2007, we were having our new kitchen installed. This is the day on which Richard the plasterer plastered the kitchen. In the process, many water and gas pipes were hidden within the walls, giving us much more wallspace for storage.
In years to come, I hope we can look back at today’s conundrum and just laugh it off. We’re listening to some nice, relaxing songs. Moving house and all that is frightening but the music is soothing and we both started grooving, yeah, yeah, yeah…
Sorry if you were hoping to read something about Plan B, the musician!
Liesel visited the physiotherapist again today in Earlsfield so we took advantage of what might be the last decent day for a while and spent the rest of it in London.
It might be one of the last chances to do that in any case, as we’re suddenly making progress on the house-moving front. But more of that later.
Today involved using nine forms of transport which is always a joy: we hope moving around Manchester is just as easy once we’re there.
Walked from home to Chessington North station, caught a SWR train to Earlsfield, then
Caught a Southern train to Clapham Junction, then
Caught an Overground train to Denmark Hill, then
Caught a 185 bus to the Horniman Museum, then
Caught another 185 bus to Lewisham Station, then
Caught a DLR train to Greenwich Cutty Sark, then
Caught a Clipper boat to Shakepeare’s Globe Theatre on the South Bank, then
Walked to Waterloo Station and caught a SWR train to Berrylands station, then
Walked up the hill and caught a K2 bus to Gosbury Hill, then
But what exciting things did we do in between? Liesel had physio, I left a bit later and met her in a coffee bar in Earlsfield. Chocolate and Coffee, it’s called, and it has very nice coffee and plenty of chocolate based confectionery, as the name suggests. Come out of Earlsfield Station, cross the road, turn left and it’s past the first turning on the right.
We’ve wanted to visit the Horniman Museum for a long time. I’ve only been once before, when Sarah, Jenny, Helen and I went, about 20+ years ago, to see live video footage of a volcano erupting in Hawaii. This was exciting technology for the time and very interesting, well worth the tortuous drive there around the South Circular Road.
Anyway, today, Liesel and I went by public transport and as you can see, it’s not a straightforward journey. We debated whether to go via Penge (note 1) but in the end, catching a bus from Denmark Hill made more sense as it stopped right outside the museum.
The gardens were fantastic. There’s a Sundial walk although we only managed to find a few dials, numbers 2, 6, 7 and 8, all different models.
Being on top of hill, we shouldn’t really have been surprised to see the London skyline, even the arch at Wembley Stadium. Planes flew over from London City Airport at regular intervals slightly spoiling what should have been a quiet, peaceful experience.
There were some animals there too, rabbits, sheep, goats, alpacas. Lots of plants from which we get different coloured dyes as well as other flowers. The Sun was out and so it was a beautiful day for a long walk outside.
The library building was interesting: the roof has wild grass growing on it. I wondered whether the weight would be too much, but I wasn’t going to volunteer to mow the roof.
In the museum itself, which is free apart from the special exhibitions, we were stunned by the range of stuffed animals. There was even a walrus which breathed its last in 1890 or something. The dodo (note 2) was magnificent, bigger than I thought. As was the porcupine (note 3).
OK, notes explained:
As mentioned in the David Bowie song ‘Did you ever have a Dream?’
As mentioned in the David Bowie song ‘Dodo’.
As mentioned in the David Bowie song ‘Cracked Actor’.
The mastodon tusk was a million years old. It’s funny how your sense of time changes: only a million years old, we just missed it. That’s a short period of time compared with the extinction of dinosaurs, 65 million years ago.
We thought it would be nice to get a boat back to Waterloo, unless of course we could find one that went all the way back to Kingston. (There wasn’t one.) We sat at the back of the boat where we enjoyed the stench of diesel fumes.
But it always a joy to spend time on the Thames.
We disembarked by the Globe Theatre and walked along the South Bank back to Waterloo, slowly, admiring the sand sculptures as usual and again thinking how wonderful it is that the Garden Bridge idea has been hit on the head.
The other day, I was walking around Chessington and I came across a nice, friendly wall. Well, friendly, optimistic graffiti, really:
Opportunities for walking around Chessington, 10,000 steps or not, are becoming limited. After a few phone calls and a visit from Liesel to the estate agent, we feel that progress is being made on our house move.
I’ve signed (but not dated) both contracts, one for our sale and one for our purchase.
We have received all (or at least, a lot) of the reports on our flat, in which we learnt about the risk of flooding (small), the affect of the next phase of the high-speed railway, HS2 (at least 300 metres away and not scheduled for construction for a long, long time) and more. Nothing to worry about.
We have lots of rules imposed by the landlord, the leaseholder, but again, nothing too onerous, unexpected or unreasonable. Storage in the attic and storage of our bikes might be difficult, but we’ll try the informal approach.
It seems that our buyer’s solicitor is no good. He’s been sitting on paperwork that he should have passed on. Now that we’ve got our estate agent on the case, we have, at last, receieved from our buyer the list of furniture that she wants to keep. We’re happy to leave all those items for her but more importantly, we now know what we need to dispose of or to take with us when we move.
The agent spoke to her yesterday and today: she wants to move fast and is just as dismayed at the performance of her solicitor as we all are.
We can start packing things up, now: we have several crates but we’ll need lots of packing boxes too. Progress at last!
I also remember 6/6/66. Mr Price, my final and only male primary school teacher was great. He tried to explain the news to us 11-year olds, mostly about Nigeria, Biafra and Rhodesia I seem to remember. And of course, we were looking forward to the World Cup.
This day in 1945 was D-Day, the Normandy Landings. General Eisenhower planned the invasion from his headquarters in Bushy Park, a frequent destination for our walks and bike rides.
My worst ever June 6 experience, even worse than an emergency appendectomy, was in 2005. I took my Dad to the Royal County Hospital in Guildford for a series of tests. He was frail, weak, in a wheelchair and I pushed him from one department to another, follow the blue line, follow the green line, X-rays and other examinations. After taking him home, I really should have paused before driving up the A3 to my own home. It was a hard, very emotional day for me, and I was just the helper. Dad had many medical issues and he still thought he’d be able to look after himself.
It’s funny how certain days have a theme. My appendectomy, Dad’s long day having hospital tests, Liesel visiting the physio today. And last year, this was the day I had stitches out following surgery on my gum by my periodontist.
On the other hand, on this day in 1992, David Bowie, who I mentioned earlier, married Iman, so that’s lovely!
And today’s June 6 adventure in London was lovely too, thanks Liesel xx.
Liesel asked if I’d like to go to heave a castle. This was a euphemism that I was not familiar with so naturally, I agreed, out of curiosity.
On Saturday we met up with our friend Rosie and we visited Hever Castle in Kent. Aha!
It was a beautifully warm, sunny day and we had a good wander waround the well-kept gardens. The castle itself has a long and interesting history and there are plenty of artefacts to look at. But not many that you’re allowed to touch.
Rosie and Liesel
Oops the dice, the dice…
Then we went to the Anchor by Pyrford Lock for a late afternoon meal. I opted for a so-called falafel vegan burger and chips. It was very nice, with a pint of IPA!
Sunday was a day to catch up on some gardening and in the process, I was reminded that the back of the garage needs a good sort-out before we move. Lots of stuff to get rid of, we even thought about having a Freecycle or Freegle day, leave it on the back lawn and hope people help themselves. The fewer trips we make to the tip, the better!
Bank Holiday Monday, we visited family for breakfast. Helen’s other half, Adam, had flown over from Sydney to watch his team, Fulham FC play at Wembley on Saturday. They won this play-offs final and next season will play in the Premier League. Which is good news for a lifelong Fulham supporter even if, as Adam thinks, the quality of the football is not as good in the Premier League compared with the Championship.
He invited us over to his Mum’s for breakfast this morning and it was good to see some of his family again. He’s had 10 hours sleep in the last three days, really needs a nap but he is flying home later today so I’m sure he’ll sleep well on the plane.
After that, Liesel and I went for a walk in the woods in Epsom, around Stew Ponds and Ashtead Common. We walked to The Star pub, on Leatherhead Road, but no, on this occasion, I did not have burger and chips. Two days in a row is OK, but three times in four days would be a bit OTT! Also, as it was so warm, I had no beer, just lemonade and lime. Liesel had soda water and lime. just so you know what to ask for when you see us in a pub, on a hot day…
Looking towards Malden Rushett
A cute little family
On this day in 1983, Jenny was born, the most exciting day of my (Mick’s) life at the time. After leaving Sarah and the baby in hospital, I went around all the local shops and told everyone. Hppy birthday, Jenny!
This was 15 years to the day after Kylie Minogue was born. For a short while when she was small, Jenny was quite pleased to share her special day. Happy 50th birthday, Kylie!
On this day in 1988, Sarah, Jenny, helen and I attended the wedding betwieen Sandra and Nick. They’d known each other as long as Sarah and I knew each other but waited 9 years longer before tying the knot. We stopped in a country lane on the ay so that Jenny and Helen could put on the lovely dresses that their Mum had made.
On this day in 2009, Liesel and Mick attended a recording of Have I Got News for You at the London Studios on the South Bank. David Mitchell on the host. It was a full house of course, and a very funny show.
Melinda was mine ’til the time That I found her Holding Jim And loving him
So begins Neil Diamond’s song, Solitary Man, which shuffled into play in the car a few days ago. This song went through my mind today when I was in the depths of the forest. Not that I’m a solitary man, and I don’t think I’ve ever known a Melinda, but I was making the most of my solitude.
Today is the seventeenth anniversary of Sarah’s departure from us. Another Thursday 17th May. In some ways, it’s a lifetime ago but in other ways, it’s such a recent event.
I took advantage of the opportunity to go for a long walk my myself, while Liesel went shopping, did some cooking and otherwise had a relaxing day.
Within walking disance of Catherine’s house in Ballina is Belleek Forest Park. It was quiet, peaceful and I saw very few other people. The paths are well maintained, well sign-posted and there is a lot to look at.
I followed the river Moy for a while too, thinking I might get as far as where it enters the Atlantic, but looking at a map afterwards, that was far too ambitious.
The Crete Boom is a ship made of concrete that was used by the Royal Navy but now sits gathering moss and seaweed in the Moy.
I was surprised to see warning signs of Japanese knotweed in a couple of places: not the vegetation I would have sought out. The forest was of course full of trees, some of which I could identify and some of which I identified from the flyer I’d picked up. Sycamore, lime, beech, oak, willow, elm, hornbeam and Monterey pine trees are all there, standing tall and proud. And putting all the world’s problems into perspective: I didn’t want to think about Brexit, Trump, Iran, North Korea, Israel, Palestine, plastics in the oceans. I wanted to spend time with Sarah, who has missed out on all our adventures over the last seventeen years, missed out on meeting her grandchildren, and I tried not to go through the cycle of thinking how unfair it all was, and what if, and if only.
Instead, I recalled the happy times we’d had together, with regret that those times didn’t last longer, but equally pleased that we’ve all moved on. I am so proud of Helen and Jenny and I’m sure their Mum would be very proud too.
There are red squirrels in the forest, but I didn’t see any. I didn’t see any rabbits either, nor any other animals bigger than birds. But it was a beautiful day to commune with nature while my thoughts meandered backwards and forwards through time.
Hmm, yes, I was enjoying communing with nature. Meanwhile, some other folks had been closely communing in nature.
When I left the forest, I walked along the road for a while, having seen a sign for Moyne Abbey. I thought that would be a good place to stop, but after every brow of a hill, I could see no sign of an abbey. So as a last resort, I looked at the map on my phone and realised I was still an hour’s walk away. I went back to the forest, again saying hello to the cows and the bulls and the donkey and standing well to the side of the road when a tractor appeared.
In the forest, I followed different paths until I found Belleek Castle. Yesterday, Catherine had said there was a coffee shop here, so that became an urgent destination. Coffee and a scone. I recalled the holidays Sarah and I had had BC, before children, often in the Cotswolds, often in the rain. Tea shops rather than coffee shops usually supplied the scones for afternoon tea, but it’s funny to note how things have changed over the years, but not much, really.
Yes, I’m sure we will always miss Sarah, she and Liesel would have a lot of laughs at my expense, I’m sure, if they’d ever met.
Back at home, we enjoyed the pasta salad and the banoffee pie that Liesel had made, along with a bottle of beer from Catherine that Lochlainn has chosen for me!
Solitary Man? Not me, I’m a very lucky bloke, I’ve met and fallen in love with two wonderful women, I have two beautiful daughters and two fantastic grandchildren. This is what’s important, not the stupid stuff that I tend to whinge about a bit too often.
So, a million thanks and lots of love to all of you who have made and who continue to make my life as fantastic as it is.
At the River by Groove Armada has just been played on the radio. It took me back to the late ’90s, listening to GLR while doing the washing up. The sky was blue, the sun was out, I could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the sound of gulls squawking in the distance, and feelings of comfort and warmth. Nostalgia. It seems along time ago, now, twenty years in fact, but it’s funny how hearing a song can evoke all those feelings from so long ago.
The previous song was Blues in the Night by Rosemary Clooney. Not many songs remind me of my Dad, but this one did. Far more songs remind me of my Mum, Dad just wasn’t interested in music, apart from a very select, short list of songs.
Talking about music, this week, Liesel and I went to two gigs. Not on consecutive nights, that would just be too much for these old bones.
Martha Tilston appeared at The Half Moon, Putney and showed us her new film, the Cliff Top Sessions, in which she invites a group of fellow musicians around to her place to play and sing.
Afterwards, she performed some of her own songs too, both old and new. I think we’ve seen Martha play live more often in the last twelve years than any other musician and she’s always good value. We bumped into her Mum too, but never did get around to having a long catch-up.
O’Hooley and Tidow are rising stars from Yorkshire whose songs are usually about real people and real events. They have great harmonies and Belinda O’Hooley’s keyboard playing is fantastic (classically trained, surely?) and their on-stage presence is lovely, very friendly and funny. They were at The Ram Folk Club based in a sports club in Thames Ditton, not a stone’s throw from where we live. We wish we’d found out about The Ram Club years ago but somehow, it’s been under our radar. And just before we move away, too. How’s that for rotten luck?
Sadly, on this day in 1993, Mick Ronson passed away. He was in David Bowie’s band in the early 1970s, during the time most of us fell in love with the science-fictiony, strange new music. When I went up to University in 1973, there were very many Michaels so to differentiate, I chose to be called Mick, in honour of Mr Ronson. I shared a room with Nick. Mick and Nick, well, it made sense at the time. The only people to carry on calling me Michael or Mike were my parents and official bodies such as banks, the NHS and the passport office. I still feel like a ‘Mick’ and when someone does call me Michael, I still expect to be told off for something. I remember seeing Mick Ronson join David Bowie on stage at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert in 1992, a very moving event in many respects.
We knew that moving house would be long-winded, emotionally stressful, probably not straighforward and yet, full of surprises.
What we hadn’t anticipated was that as time went on, the whole process would become so much more complex, with many more links in the chain, and so many more bodies involved.
We found a place to buy. Our seller has an estate agent and a solicitor. We can pay for it with the proceeds from selling our house.
We put our house on the market, someone made an acceptable offer quite quickly, so we accepted it. Our agents told us she was in a position to buy. We all thought that meant she had the money available in used fivers in a suitcase.
But then it transpired that she needed a mortgage. So we had the house surveyed by her mortgage provider. A very long time later, we learned that the mortgage had been offered.
An even longer time later, we learned that she is having an existing property re-mortgaged so that she can raise some cash for the deposit. That means the mortgage provider is having to conduct a survey at the old property too.
All these surprise are annoying because they’re holding up the whole process by adding more links to the chain. And all being done serially, not in parallel. Many more bodies are involved too.
We have to deal with two estate agents (our own and the one selling us our new abode) and a solicitor. We might deal with the seller’s and/or buyer’s solicitor, but not necessarily so.
Our buyer is living in east London and planning to rent out our house. That’s not a problem, but there’s no sense of urgency on her part. To now be dealing with a broker and another mortgage provider is really disappointing.
It leaves us wondering what other steps we’ll have to go through that we’re not aware of at present. Out agent is (or says he is) confident that the sale will go through. But if the buyer changes her mind for any reason, we’ll have to start all over again.
The most worrying thing is that one day, our vendors may get fed up with waiting for us to sign the contract. We can’t do that until our buyer pays a deposit for our house, and we can use that as a deposit for our new place.
We’re trying to keep our vendors up to date and fully informed, but that’s not easy when we don’t know what’s happening ourselves. We have to call the agent for an update when we think that for their fee, their commission, it wouldn’t hurt them to call us every few days, even if only to say there’s been no further progress.
What we want to do is start packing up, even if the moving date is still several weeks in the future. We dare not bring all that stuff down from the loft because if we have to prepare the house for new viewings, well, that would be so frustrating, to say the least.
More importantly though, we want to start making detailed plans for our travels, booking flights and accommodation and so on. It’s hard to get really excited about all that while we’re still in a state of flux.
There are some things about this house that I will miss, though, some quirks that we might leave as a surprise for the next occupants:
The bathroom hot tap that supplies hot water for a few seconds, then turns to a trickle, so you have to turn it up more.
The shower that, if you turn it to its limit, causes some water to also come from the bath tap. The solution is to turn the main control back a notch.
The bedroom door handle which works by pushing up rather than down. I’ve tried many times to fix it, but if I put the handles in the other way round, they don’t move at all.
I don’t think we’ll leave the washing machine, because it leaks, but if we did, the new user would notice the on/off switch is permantly on.
We won’t be taking the old stereo system with us. Nor can we leave it. The record player went many years ago, the cassette players’ buttons are broken, AM reception is ropey, FM reception requires the stereo option to be turned off, any CDs played will jump and worst of all, only one of the two speakers works.
In one of the bedroom windows, there’s a patch of what looks like grease, that can’t be removed. It’s in the cavity between the two panes of glass.
We like our garden but we do the bare minumum, just maintenance work, in it, and I won’t miss the guilty feeling I have when I can’t be bothered to do any gardening, because we won’t have a garden.
I will misss the view of The Shard from the second bedroom. But since that tree has grown an extra few inches over the last couple of years, it’s not as easy to see, except an night when its lights are on. The loss of this view is the main reason we’re moving, of course.
We won’t miss the neighbours: rude, inconsiderate, disrespectful, loud.
The stench of fish curry on a Monday, a cauldron of thick, pink gruel that might be fish or it might be offal, boiling away outside on their patio.
They and their visitors parking on the shared drive preventing us from driving into our own garage.
Their almost daily coming back from somewhere late at night and slamming car doors over and over. The record was 19 car door slams one night, from one, two, maybe three cars. Nineteen. You may well be shaking your head in disbelief too.
Talking very loudly outside their house (and therefore just below our bedroom window) late at night.
The pile of rubbish that they leave in a pile at the end of the shared drive, outside their garage, until such times as they take it somewhere to be fly-tipped. They take it to the correct facility, surely? Not in the middle of the night, they don’t. And don’t call me Shirley.
No, we won’t miss them at all.
But that’s all in the future. How far in the future, we can’t say. Meanwhile, here are a couple of nice things to look back on.
On this day in 2004, Liesel and I saw ‘When Harry Met Sally’ on stage in Haymarket. We’d known each other for less than a year at this point, so it was maybe a bit risky going to see a story that discusses whether men and women can just be friends. It was very good though, great fun, and the famous scene in a restaurant was very well done.
One of the attractions for me was that the leading lady was Alyson Hannigan who we knew from playing Willow in ‘Buffy, the Vampire Slayer’.
On this day in 2011, we went into London for the London Marathon. I could lie and say that both Liesel and Mick ran and both did so in the best times ever. But really, we were just there to cheer on Adam, along with Helen and some of their friends. Liesel and Mick used hire Bikes from Waterloo to beyond London Bridge to see Adam as near the start as we could reach. We then we watched from a bridge near the Tower. His time was 4h37m, not bad with not much training due to dodgy knees thanks to some unfortunate footballing injuries.
Adam so enjoyed the experience that within a year, he and Helen had moved to Sydney, Australia, so that neither of them would be tempted to enter again.
This hasn’t been the most exciting of weeks. Today is Liesel’s final day at her current job, which is quite exciting but otherwise, nothing special. From now on, we’re sailing with the wind until we can move house.We have a trip planned to visit Martha for her 2nd birthday. And once Liesel’s not working fulltime, we’ll make a few trips into London and further afield: watch out Canterbury, Mary Rose and Ireland…
The For Sale board outside our house has been changed to Sold. And we have received the form from Northenden listing the items that our vendors are leaving in the apartment, if we want them. Our buyer should be receiving the equivalent form any day now too. One of the most frustrating aspects of this whole project is, we don’t really know what’s happening, the agents and solicitor don’t keep us up to date with all the activity. And we’re waiting for the next surprise.
On this day in 1989, I had the day off work and Sarah and I took Jenny and Helen to Drusillas, a small zoo park in Sussex. They were aged 5 and 2 respectively and both have very fond memories of that day. Maybe.
On this day in 2006, Mick flew to New York for a long weekend with Liesel. We visited museums and saw a couple of theatre shows. Theater shows, I suppose. But the main point of this trip was to bring Liesel back to her new home here in Chessington. We’d married 6 weeks earlier in Alaska, Liesel had her visa, and I felt it was important to escort her into the country. We ventured further afield to meet Liesel’s old friend, ‘Aunty’ Pauline, in Connecticut. So far, this is Mick’s only visit to New York.
On this day in 2009, Liesel and I visited Liverpool, and it’s impossible to think about Liverpool without thinking about the Beatles of course. We wanted to go into one of the cathedrals, but somehow missed the front door. The docks were a nice peaceful area to wander round.