The sun is shining

I have decided that I like my new house.

There’s an awful lot to do, but I’m looking forward to getting things done.  I’ve rediscovered my love of gardening. This one has such a lot of potential. What I need to make sure of is that I get help when it’s needed (in other words, pay somebody!), rather than struggling to do it all myself.

The amount of work the man did on Friday would have taken me for ever. He was worth every penny I paid him.

As the sun is shining, I might just pop outside again….

Progress

I feel I’ve made some progress today. A man came to quote for clearing some trees and generally tidying the garden. The quote was so reasonable I said yes straightaway. He’s coming tomorrow- Good Friday –to do the work. It’s going to make such a difference. This garden has so much potential.

I’ve also placed an order for a new front door, almost decided who’s going to fit the other doors and window, and I’m pretty sure what I want done with the kitchen and who best to do it.

Best of all, it hasn’t sn****d! I can finally see most of my grass.

I had a lot of Writers Bureau work to do which was good as it gave me something to focus on while I shake off the last of this cold. I’m going  out for a curry later, with Spice. I’m not really in the mood as I stil feel a bit under the par, but at least it will save me having to cook, AND John’s driving us there so no hanging about at draughty train stations.

Snail motion

I'm in ultra slow mode right now. Thanks to this bug, everything feels like too much effort. Today all I've done is change some curtains, give somebody some feedback on a story, put two bits of furniture up for sale on eBay, and tackle a bit of Writers Bureau work.
Ah yes, and move the furniture round in the dining room.
Now, for some food. Shame I have to cook it myself.

One door opens...

I haven’t been in the mood for blogging since I moved. 

The snow, this stupid head cold and cough, the biting winds and even more snow; they’ve all contrived to sap my energy 

At the moment, all I want to do is keep warm and do nothing very much at all. What I’m having to do instead is seeing lots of builders and double glazing people while I try to make up my mind what to fix first and how much to spend.I have a list of jobs that needs doing which gets longer every day. This morning, I discovered the top drawer in the kitchen had no back to it which was why I kept losing cutlery.

The good news is that the door to the conservatory is now mended which makes me feel more secure. I found a receipt for a window and door repair man and he fixed it in no time flat. The bad news is that he confirmed what I already suspected, the front door is not mendable so I will have to have a new one. At least then I’ll get a letterbox , AND lose the devilishly dangerous step UP when you come in the front door.

As I feel poorly I’m not even going to try to do anything useful. I did go out last night though. I had to. It was Leeds Writers Circle’s AGM and I was standing for election as secretary so it wouldn’t have gone well had I not shown up. It was the usual deadly dull affair. I hope with the brand new committee, things will change for the better.

The weather was miserable so rather than risking making my cold even worse, and to avoid hanging round a draughty station, I caught a taxi home. 

Back to work, very very slowly

I did some Writers Bureau marking today, the first I’ve done for a week. It was good to do something other than shift furniture and unpack boxes. Shame I’ve been struck down by a stupid cold. Mind you, it’s not that I’d be in the garden, pruning. I can’t see the garden for the snow. It does seem to be melting away now though. I just hope there’s no more to come.

Having changed my mind about which room to have as my office (!), I’m now set up in the biggest bedroom at the front of the house. I SAY set up, what I mean is the furniture’s in more or less the right pace but the paperwork – that’s a very different story. Chaos might sum it up.

I feel so rough at the moment, I have no choice but to take it slowly but I do feel as though I’m getting there. Right now, it’s time to think about food. After that, I’ll probably just crash out. It is SUNDAY after all. 

Sorry I missed your birthday, Caroline. I hope it was a good one. 

I HAVE MOVED!!!!!

I haven’t felt this shattered since, well never really.

I have bruises on my bruises and the house looks like Steptoe’s junk yard. I can hardly get to the kettle.

It hasn’t been an easy ride. One big problem is that I hadn’t realised how little storage space there is in the kitchen. There’s not enough room for even half my stuff. That would be fine IF I could store the excess in the garage but that’s had to take a n awful lot of my ex’s precious possessions (90%  rubbish IMO)

Monday was the main removal day. It snowed.  Then chucked it down with rain. Then it didn’t all get done so went over to the next day for the garden pots and yet more of John’s bits and pieces.

That night I slept not a wink. First I listened to the rivers of rain cascading from my gutters (more holes than several sieves), then when the rain stopped, I heard a sound like a drip then another drip, maybe 20 seconds later. The boiler kept coming on too which as it‘s in the room I was trying to sleep in, didn’t help. Eventually I found the source of the problem. The boiler was leaking. I wouldn’t have minded so much but the woman who sold me the house has put a large metal bowl under the leak so obviously knew there was a problem. The bowl was full and had overflowed on to the floor.

Luckily I was able to call British Gas who fixed it, eventually, but I will have to pay.

There have been other problems too. I can’t use the front door as it’s so hard to open/shut. The kitchen door which is made of wood has swollen so much, it takes two, strong men to open it. Result, I have to come into the house via the conservatory which would be fine if the door from the conservatory to the house worked, which it doesn’t….

The woman who sold the house to me tried to fob me off,  more or less implying that I must have broken the doors, and saying that she’d said something about the boiler (she hadn’t).

You might think I regret moving, but I don’t. In a funny kind of  way it’s good that there are things wrong as then I will have to fix them.  In my last house, there were large areas I didn’t decorate at all in the three years, four months I was there.  Now I’m so annoyed with the daft woman who sold me this place (long story which I refuse to bore anyone with) that it’s made me determined to change everything here, as soon as possible. I’ll have to recover first though. …..

I've just finished clearing and cleaning the old house ready for the new people - the sale completes tomorrow, the 22^nd of March. That will be exactly one year since my mother died. 

It’s been a truly memorable year. A year that’s caused me so much pain and grief I will never forget it but now the good times are coming.

I can’t wait.

Saturday 16th March

I had two carpets fitted today which is great as it’s so much easier BEFORE the furniture arrives. I like laminate flooring , but when it comes to bedrooms, I prefer something warmer and softer beneath my  feet.

At the moment, I am in physical pain. This moving lark is NO fun and I’ve hardly started yet.  Of course it would help if I was fitter, and yes, younger too…

 Having got the keys from the seller yesterday, I went to the estate agent today  as the seller had left the central heating instructions with them. 

The woman coldly told me that they were with the solicitor who would be sending them to my solicitor. I was furious, why? Because 

1. She could have told me that either over the phone or by email. They knew I'd had to wait until half past four on completion day to get into the property.

2. She was abrupt.

3. She didn't seem to give a d**m. 

4. She couldn't even be bothered to smile. 

I've moved lots of times and used lots of estate agents. All of them, until now, have wished me happiness in my new home. Not Emsley's.  They have been rude, obstructive, dishonest, and incompetent.

I would strongly advise people to avoid them and the solicitors attached to them, like the plague.