Thursday 26 February 2015
When will it stop sodding raining?
Phone rings early and it is partner agent, who has been up and at her laptop since 4.30. I suggest that 4.30 is silly o'clock and she said she had been lying in bed, thinking about work and she had decided she had better get up and do some. She has just started her own agency and has a pre school child and a husband who expects his meal on the table at 12.30. I wouldn't go back to those times for all the Darjeeling in Darjeeling. She had been hoping to make her first sale this weekend. It transpires that the wonderful first visit had been made with just the wife, and the husband has since refused even to go and see the house, saying it just doesn't do it for him.
This happens all the time, alas. The couple who came to see my flat in January ended in the same result - the lady had been out in May 2014 and had loved it, and the husband didn't at all. I also had a great visit on the main house last year with a lady, and her husband has yet to get out of Paris and make his way south.
I find a wonderful photo of a moth looking hacked off by the rain.
(Image Source: black&white)
Go down to the weekly market and find it much reduced. Rain bucketing down. Dive into the charity shop and footle around the packed rails. There are various dank smelling locals lurking in their and peering at the sheets of rain through the windows. I find some ravishing things which are built for someone without a bust and with arms like a fairy. Happily, I then come across a pair of jeans which fit me like a glove. The German lady stands by the changing room to preserve my privacy. The curtain has fallen off the rail and has just been looped over, giving everyone in the shop a fine view of the lower half of whoever is in the middle of divesting themselves in the vestiaire. She is very impressed with the jeans but says the large white scarf makes me look like a granny. I had thought of buying it and using it to keep myself warm whilst writing this in the mornings, but am suitably shamed into putting it back in the box. Today, I have on plain white cotton knicks which do not attract attention. Last week, in the swimming pool changing rooms, I was wearing a pair of frilly blue nylon ones which caused reactions varying from hilarity to consternation, depending on the age of the unfortunate viewer. Must remember not to run out of clean underwear again.
OH is having morning off from the rental units. I went in to look at the bathroom door, which is sticking. Donning the ear protectors, I sanded for a good half an hour and it made no difference whatsoever. The floor needs planing. Played on Facebook for a while and drank a cup of coffee. I am so fed up of these rental units. Back home and to my surprise and delight, someone rang up and asked to visit the big top unit!!
Back home and watch Bargain Hunt. Dog steaming by the fire. Have a little sleep. OH goes back down town to recommence battle with the skirting boards, which have popped off the wall, and I ring people up and no one is home. Walk dog briefly. No one else dog walking.
Look back at previous writings stored on my mini hard drive. Heavens, I have been writing this sort of drivel for years....