Flower power in the hedgerows

Monday 11 May 2015

Overcast 27 degrees

Usually I love Mondays.   Today I didn't feel quite up to the challenge.  Dragged myself down to the rental unit to try and load some new properties. I have had the paperwork for one of them for over a week now.  Not good.  Delicious smells wafted up from the ground floor restaurant.  The phone rang non stop - dink dop - and cutlery was rattled and glasses clinked.  My mobile rang and it is a complete miracle and the phone and Internet are back on at home!  Collected OH blood test results, spoke to my colleague about various things and went back home and sat and enjoyed cup of tea whilst looking at the green flashing lights on the Livebox.  My current favourite view.

Two hours later we had caught up on all of the backlog, I finished off loading another property and walked the dog.

One benefit of a semi blind and extremely deaf dog is that you are obliged to wander the lanes with them whilst they do their thing(s).  I never realised how beautiful the Spring and early Summer flowers are and just on my doorstep.  Today's delights were deep purple Aquilegia (Granny's Bonnets)

http://newfs.s3.amazonaws.com/taxon-images-1000s1000/Ranunculaceae/aquilegia-vulgaris-fl-ahaines-c.jpg

Also deep burgundy Geranium Phaem 

 http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/aa/Geranium_phaeum_flowers.jpg

and Solomon's seal which is just starting to die back

 thank you Louis Landry

Didn't have my phone with me so have had to rely on Google images here.  It is still a wonder to me that I find garden plants growing wild in the hedgerows here.  Sometimes, if I am lucky, I come across some orchids

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f0/Dactylorhiza_fuchsii_(flower_spikes).jpg

or some wild purple gladioli, so reminiscent of holidays in Cornwall when the boys were little

http://www.wildflowersofireland.net/image_uploads/flowers/Gladiolus-Eastern-2.jpg

I get an increased offer on the llama farm but it is still woefully below the asking price.  I transmit this to the vendors, who are currently in Spain and trying to prolong the reservation deposit on their Spanish property.  To my utter amazement, they accept, providing I drop fees by 50%.  I go back to the agency and say I might be able to squeeze five grand more out of the buyers but that will probably be it.  I also remind them that there is an introducer who has negotiated a wonderful deal for themselves.  The agency say they will see what they can do.  

The vendors tell me that they had received an email from the Russians, saying that the man has been seriously ill and in hospital.  I know that he has been posting funny things on FB and says that he is going to a flower show on Thursday of this week.  Is this proof that they are bonkers or liars?  I am so depressed.  I found them to be such delightful people.  OH says it was never clear where the money was coming from.  He never takes to people in a big way, as I do.

Home and feeling fraught

Wednesday 29 April 2015

Rain and cloudy
12 degrees

Had fraught conversation with the Russians on Skype last night - they have still not paid the deposit on the house and the owners are going nuts.  Fortunately with being on holiday, I have had my phone switched off, otherwise they would have been ringing me every day.  The Russians say yes they will have the money but they dont know when and it is complicated.  They say it is coming from their friends in the East.  The man says can he tell me a joke and I am thinking no,tell me when you are going to pay in the effing money.

This morning, get an email from the sellers saying that if I dont ring them immediately, they are going to pull the contract.  I ring them.  They are deeply unhappy and think the Russians are not serious.  They ask, again, where the money is coming from and I cant answer them because all the Russians say is that it is from salary and it is complicated.  The sellers say that the buyers have until next Tuesday and then they are cancelling.  OH manages to find a couple of bird watchers to talk to in the foyer of the hotel.  Amazingly, they live in the same road as his brother in the UK.

We have decided to go home early, mainly because of over a week of epic drinking and no sleep, we are exhausted.  OH must be the most flatulent man on the planet and he snores all night.  I feel one hundred years old.  The birds start singing at 6 am.  Cats fight in the night.  Spaniards dont go to bed until at least 2 am.  We were in one bar and there was a couple with a one week old baby and another with a three week old.  They didnt leave til ten pm.  I have to say, the babies were entranced by the bright lights and no one draped towels over the mothers when they breast fed (glass of wine in hand).  Small children tore around the tables and an English guy, grey haired and wearing glasses, posed on a bar stool and tried to hold in his stomach and talk amusingly to his Russian girlfriend who was at least 20 years his junior.  Not junior enough to be showing as much leg as she was.

The stranges thing I saw in Trujillo was a shop called Hasta Crisis which had one room devoted to nasty plastic handbags and another to fishing tackle.

We finally leave the hotel at 10.30 and head north.  We both feel exhausted and deflated. The satnav says it is 950 kilometres to home.  I dont dare sleep because I know OH may nod off at the wheel.

We stop off for lunch at a small hotel restaurant and have a starter of ratatouille with a fried egg plopped on top, kebabs and cold custard with nutmeg.  Surprisingly, very good. Onwards we go and then around Madrid which had some interesting architecture and terrifying drivers.

We finally hit the motorway within an hour of being home and find it is closed so rather than trail over the border with the rest of the traffic, OH strikes off into the countryside, despite my telling him that this is a very bad idea and we drive around on tiny roads for an hour and a half before surprisingly finding the motor way and getting home at 11 pm.

this unbelievably is just a few minutes after all the big buildings

Bull Ring

More Alhambra!

Saturday 25 April 2015

Hot and sunny 25 degrees

Photos to come people!

Election fever grips the capital

Mayor of London Boris Johnson

Monday 30 March 2015

13 degrees
Light drizzle followed by heavy drizzle

This made me laugh - although unlikely to have been by the Mayor himself, the wildly shaggy haired Boris Johnson, sadly lacking from Have I Got News for You since he decided to get serious.



So parliament has been dissolved, the General Election set for May 7th and everyone is looking very happy about it

David Cameron, Nick Clegg and Ed Milliband

Ed seems to feel that his genitalia are under threat.  If you are looking for serious political analysis, by the way, you really are in the wrong place.  My analysis of the election will largely extend to amusing pictures and cock ups.

Lots of enquiries and everyone seems to want to come when we are on holiday.  OH takes the idea of moving the holiday very badly and starts waving hands in the air like angry sea anemone.  Say OK we will stick with it.  I cant be bothered with holidays.  I would rather stay here and do some gardening and writing and fiddle around with my crafting stuff but no, we have to spend hours in the car going somewhere hot, stay in a hotel which is stuffy and where I have to listen to him snoring all night, and drink and eat too much.  I usually feel exhausted when I get back, although it is good for clearing up the stress related eczema which is now all over my elbows and neck and driving me bonkers.

My Russians say they will be back to sign the reservation contract on the 14 April and the sellers have found a house in Murcia and, fortunately, they are speaking on Skype when I ring up so I manage to speak to them on broadcast.

Spend the morning trying to find property for the buyer who wanted to buy the house that the Russians have now agreed on, and they reject everything.  The problem is that when people fix on a house, they want to find something else which is identical, and it can take years before they let go.  This happened twice in 2013 and both sets of buyers are still looking.  As Del Boy (Fools and Horses) would say 'fortune favours the brave'.  If you love something, you just have to dive in and then figure out the rest later.  If you are not brave enough to dive in, then perhaps the time and the action are just not right for you.

Go swimming later on in the day and the pool is almost empty, apart from a really annoying woman who swims so fast on her lengths that I am absolutely breathless in trying to keep up with her.  Do my 30 lengths in record time.  She is still shooting up and down the pool like an automaton whilst I take a breather, sit in the bubbles and look at my stomach bouncing about.  I have been eating bread again and look six months pregnant with the two kilos gained right on my front.

A french client contacts me about a house which has just come back onto the market, after having been reserved for a period of six months, at the expiration of which it transpired the buyer couldnt get the loan.  She says she knows the house and loves it but could only afford to pay 90% of the asking price.   It is an expensive house and this represents rather a lot of money.  I ask her if she wants to come and see it again, and she says she will talk to her husband.  This property, a stunning water mill, I used to have on exclusive contract. I found a buyer almost immediately, at a sum thirty percent in excess of what is now being asked.  The seller dilly dallied at paying for the necessary reports and insisted on having their own notaire, with the result that the buyers who had waited a month to sign, had to return to the States.  By the time they got off the boat, they had changed their minds and now we are two years down the road and it is still not sold. A voir, as they say over here.

Watched the end of The Tempest and was surprised to find that I enjoyed it.  OH was in deep sleep.

Accountants, thin doors and badly behaved trolley type of day...

Monday 23 March 2015

Cool and showery 11 degrees

My accountant's emails were starting to sound desperate so I had booked in a visit to see her today.  Over here, the financial year end is December and the accounts are supposed to be in by the end of March.  I find that by cutting it short, the work gets done after the rush and I get the results very quickly.  Note that she had not been desperate enough to actually pick up the phone and ring me.  That happens when you get to the last 7 days.

In the early days, when I was earning stellar amounts of money, I used to be seen by a partner.  When hard times hit, I got busted down to an accounting clerk and we have stayed together ever since.  S is on the telephone when I arrive so I chat to the receptionist N who is a lovely lady and gets slightly fatter every year.  It has been eleven years and she is now filling the chair.  She eases herself out, offers a coffee and settles me into a spartan room with views of the car park.

I have a problem in that I am about to have a good year.  Good years mean I will suffer immense amounts of social charges.  S arrives and shuffles through my paperwork.  I may be always late but it is always complete and well prepared.  The social charges, which pay for health, pension, sickness and a proportion of the national debt (yes, really) are levied at 40% of income after sales tax and related expenses ie my net profit.   I ask her for some ideas of how to reduce my net profit.  She sucks her teeth and suggests I go out for lots of nice meals.  (yes, really).  I say, how about if I buy a new car and what if it is eco-friendly. She says that there is a maximum amount I could spend - 25000 euros but not all of that can be written off - only 18500 euros.  What happens to the rest?  It just stays in your balance sheet.  And that is only for cars with under 20 grams CO2 emissions.  If I were to buy a gas guzzler, I could only write off 9500 euros.  My hatred of the taxation system is rekindled.  Why the hell cant you write off the lot?  S shrugs.  It is the law.

I ask her for other ideas.  She is starting to look hot under the collar.  I say how about if I rent an office.  Yes that would be OK.  How about if I rent an office for myself or keep a room at home and charge expenses (shouldn't these ideas have been coming from my accountant???).  S says how would I pay for that with my current bank balance.  I ask about changing regime to a more favourable one.  S says she needs to ask the partner I used to see.

OH is lurking outside and reading a tome on the Peninsular Wars.  Please don't ask me what these were about.  

We repair to McDonald's which is no where near the amount, apparently, I should be spending on lunch and then go to the large DIY store where we try to find a very narrow door.  OH has decided to try and hide the massive and luminously white water tank which the plumber has stuck onto the wall in the new rental unit.  Finding a very narrow door, as you would imagine, isn't that easy.   There is only one trolley left in the bay and it is of the badly behaved variety, with wonky wheels and rotting base.  OH charges off into the shop, shouting 'follow me' and I try to keep up but the trolley has other ideas and veers off into displays, causing chaos.  It responds neither to pushing or pulling and I have to holler at OH to come back and we contain it by seizing a side each.

It occurs to me that I may be able to find things for my latest crafting obsession so I go in search of a hand drill, spray on glue and silica balls.  Various men send me off on various wild goose chases.  Find OH wrestling with the badly behaved trolley and two metres of long thin wood.  Manoeuvre this and the thin door into the car and I get to sit in the back seat which means I can play on my phone all the way home without OH complaining that I am rude and ignoring him.

I have three missed calls from the would be buyer of the house in town.  I don't know why they keep ringing me.  I cant help them with their dilemma.  I don't have a time machine to go back and get the owners to sign their offer first.  We need to wait to hear from the sellers advocate.  Ring the seller.  Her only defence is probably temporary insanity.  I suggest, very subtly, that she must have been very stressed.  She is very stressed and it is about 15 minutes before I get a word in edge ways.  I suggest a trip to the doctor to TALK ABOUT HER STRESS and get medication might help her case.  I must have been too subtle and she must have been too stressed because she definitely didn't take anything on board.  I cant face talking to the would be buyers.   

We do a catch up of the emails and tasks for the day and I peel two boxes of prawns before going for a swim.  Have a rental enquiry so speak to him and then try ringing some other people who aren't in.  OH makes utterly delicious chili seafood risotto.  

Avila, rising above its plains, city and World Heritage site

Sunday 22 March 2015

Still drizzly
10 degrees

Quiet day so just walked the dog around the lake together, OH threw stones at the cormorants and we were passed, many times, by lady joggers who were very well turned out indeed for that time in the morning, and on a Sunday.

Looking through my old photos, I come across those taken in 2011 when we had a late autumn trip to the city of Avila in Castile and Leon.  The rain in Spain is mainly, in actuality, on the coast.  In the vast central plains of Spain, it is inferno o invierno (an inferno or winter). The walled city of Avila stands high above its surrounded plains and the land had been burned dry of vegetation and resembled the hump backs of so many camels.  The citizens protected themselves by great walls, constructed between the 11th and 14th centuries.  It is a World Heritage site and a privilege to see.  Here are my photos

Medieval John Cleese

            

   

Wedding models in town square

A little challenge for you - look closely at the photos and see if you can spot the annoying tourist....

Tea, fig rolls and it is snowing again in Boston....

Friday 21 March 2015

First day of Spring
Rain is back again

I get a message on Skype which is the modern day equivalent of a long distance wail.  'it is snowing again!'.  Poor LL, when she signed the initial contract to buy her house here, back in October, June must have seemed a long way off.  She is on a tiny outcrop of the States, on the Eastern seaboard, and has suffered snow for months.  And not inconsiderable amounts of the white stuff either.  She knows, as well as I do, that if she doesn't turn up to sign the Title contract at the end of June, she is liable to pay 10% percent penalties to the seller, who has actually changed his mind and doesn't really want to sell, but is tied in.  He would be thrilled to get 10% penalties and to not sell the house.  She is under the cosh.  On the positive side, the euro has really dropped against the US dollar, so she can afford to drop her price somewhat to generate a quick sale.  Providing the buyers can get over their doorsteps, and hers.

First thing today is to go and revisit the house I went to see last week, and get the sales contract.  I arrive and the septic tank lady is tramping around the garden and the owners, who don't speak her language, are hiding in the house.  I introduce them to one another and interpret.  I am then invited in and the lady of the house goes to make tea.  A good thing about UK clients is that you get tea at the start, which lubricates the bronchials and is agreeable.  You also often get biscuits (fig rolls in this instance, yum!).  The French and Spanish wait until business is finished before offering you refreshments (unless you are puce in the face with heat and look as if you are about to expire onto their freshly cleaned parquet) and then if you accept, you are there an hour longer.  They then take the opportunity to talk about many things of which the worst to extricate oneself from, is politics and when the UK will join the Euro.  Not in a month of Sundays because we don't want to be in the same crap that you are, is the actual answer.  I have to dress it up a little.  They are also often under the impression that the Queen owns all property in the UK.  OH used to tell people this was true.

We also discuss Jeremy Clarkson, of Top Gear, who has been suspended by the BBC following a fracas with his producer.  A million people have now signed the petition, asking for him to be reinstated.  People either love him or hate him.  The man of the house and myself are definite fans.  I particularly love the fact he is not at all PC.  PC is an infringement of civil liberty, imo.  I will be writing a blog about that.  When I have done a million other things on the list first.  I will also be writing one called In Praise of Monotasking but I don't know when because I am still stuck in the black hell of Multitasking.

I get out the sale contract and everything suddenly grinds to a halt.  Their daughters are not happy with them selling the house so feathers need to be smoothed and they will sign the contract later.  Why didn't they tell me that before letting me drive 25 kms to see them?

Back home and spend two hours going through all emails and getting my diary up to date. I have more people coming over in the next month than I have in ages.

The complicated situation with the house in town continues and both buyer and seller keep ringing me up but I don't know why because there is nothing that will happen until the seller sees her advocate next Friday.

My lovely labradorite has been working overtime so, when I get to bed, I recharge it by placing it between my hands and running reiki through it.  I wake up in the middle of the night suddenly and am conscious of an image of the stone in my mind's eye, and all of the facets are sparkling.  A strange experience.

It should have been dead but it won't lie down.... with throwing of proverbial hats in the air much later on.

Monday 16 March 2015

Sunny and 17 degrees! Yay Spring at last

I spent most of the morning on the phone with a sale that should have been dead but is refusing to lie down and keep quiet.  

First thing, I ring the head of the agency and she says that because the other agency has signed their buyers and the sellers have co-signed, that any tribunal would go in their favour and my people are too late.  I put the phone down and it rings.  

It is the seller.  She has been talking to the notary I recommended, rather than the one she habitually uses, who only answers his phone for two hours a day.  He is really not that busy and needs to look through the window and notice it is the 21st century.  The notary has said that my buyers may also have a claim because they made a written offer on the 4th March (wtf?  this is the first I have heard of this) and also have had reports done on the roof and the termites (more wtf?).  The notary says the situation is grey rather than black and white. I am sure there is a part of the notary's training on being non committal.  It is probably part of the 'Pass the buck' module.  Both my buyers and the other buyers can state that they have right to purchase and it could go to the Tribunal to decide.  The Tribunal means months of delay.  The seller is manic.  The notary had also told her that if she had gone via me rather than trying to negotiate it herself, then things would have been done correctly. Allowed myself wry smile.

I point out that my buyer has shown himself to be extremely tenacious and she says that he and his wife have been ringing and emailing her for days.  I also point out that he has the time and the money to pursue things to the bitter end.  Would the other couple, who are young and hopefully less bloody minded, also want the time. anguish and not inconsiderable expense of taking on an avocat.  She said she would talk to her partner and they would make a decision.   I put the phone down and it rings.

It is the notary.  Happily, we have just bought a phone which is cordless so I am able to make coffee, do violent gesticulations at the dog who is trying to head off down the lane, and settle myself down with notepad and pen whilst she is talking.  It transpires that the acceptance of the offer of the 4th March was done orally and there is no trace by voicemail, text or email of its existence.  She wants to know if I have any emails or anything else confirming that the sellers agreed.  I say I only have one email and it says that they do not accept the offer and that I was late on the scene.  She says they will have to make a decision and it could end up in court.   I put the phone down and it rings.

It is the would be buyer's wife so I update her with this morning's conversations.  Other phone calls include a very insistent company trying to sell me frozen food because I am such a busy working woman.  Someone else who wanted to tell me about how I could better use the pension I am receiving was surprised to learn that I am still working.  At your age? She said.  Yes bitch.  You bet I am.

The seller rings back and says they have just emailed the other agency to withdraw.  He rang them immediately and was very annoyed.  They had words.  He said he would talk to his notary (good luck with that one - it is the one who doesn't answer his phone) and get back to them.  He rang them back later and said that they should get an avocat.

Discover the dog has taken the opportunity to run off and have to get in the car and find him. He is a total moron.  For the first 11 years of his life, he didn't run off.  Now he does it at all possible opportunities.

I unplug the phone and we watch Bargain Hunt and have corned beef sandwiches with brown sauce and rocket salad. It is a moment of sanity in an otherwise insane day.  

Early afternoon I go to see the English couple who found me in the phone directory (we thought you might speak English).  Their phone call was a real surprise as I am just listed under my name with 'estate agent' as a label.  The first time in 11 years anyone has rung me from this source.   The property is in a neighbouring departement and is typical of the regional style with long sloping roofs and a large central hallway with rooms off.  It has a holiday home feel.  In a full time home, the furniture, fittings, pictures and paraphernalia accrete over a period of time.  Holiday homes, everything is bought together and then spread over the rooms.  There were pictures that you really wouldn't want to look at on a regular basis.

It was basic but the rooms were flooded with light and there was a barn which was large enough to convert but not so huge that it is a money pit.  Would it do for the clients of last week, now in a state of 'complete indecision' because they loved the house but not the road. Stood outside and listened.  Road about the same distance away as the other house but shouldn't carry as much traffic.   Discussed the price and they said they would talk to the children and get back to me.

Go for a swim and not very many people in the pool.  Bliss.  Do my regulation 20 lengths and sit in the bubbles and bob.

Back home and OH has fishing stuff everywhere.  My hoard is nothing on his.

There are many messages on the phone but it is time to Skype my Russian clients.  They appear on the screen, with angelic golden haired children who say hello and eat large, juicy looking apples.  They want to buy the house they drove 3500 kms to see.  They want to buy it cash with no messing around.  We are all very, very happy.  Behind them, through their kitchen window, the light fades and night falls.  They say it is below zero.  I say it is still light for at least a couple of hours and it is 15 degrees.  Mica says not to worry, he has not got cash from criminal activities.  This is what you must call Russian humour.

I ring the owners who have been on pins.  I tell them the good news and expect to hear sounds of joy.   They are shell shocked.  They have to move country with a large herd of animals.  They are thinking 'oh crap.  This has suddenly got real'.  I am deflated at their reaction so OH gives me alcohol, the universal cheerer upper.

He rustles up spicy stir fry chicken and disappears to watch football.  It is now late and I feel on my last legs but have to do VAT return.  Collapse to bed.

Art deco and angst

Monday 9 March 2015

Sun with lots of wispy white cloud
6 degrees rising to 14

First things first.  Ring up the couple who run the agency with whom I work and explain that the seller of the house is in torment and the buyer has currently refused to pay more than 50% fees.  First round is described in this post

http://leavingmynormal.blogspot.fr/2015/03/the-perfidy-of-human-nature-or-how-low.html

We chew it over and the head of the agency says that the problem is that if we agree to 50% too quickly, the would be buyer may well come back with an even lower offer.  He suggests we knock off another 10 % and see how that goes.  He also says I could ask the sellers to drop another 1000 euros off their net.  I can't ask them to do this and I won't.  They are already selling 30% below market value.  Oh if only someone would appear out of the blue with enough cash burning a hole in their pocket!   Decide that, rather than naming the sum, to ask the would be buyers to come up a way and, in view of the fact that they are five hours behind in time zone, sent them a carefully worded email.  I believe that when negotiation is delicate then you need to set out your points and give the parties time to chew over them. Other times, you need to be like a swift scimitar but today was not one of those times.

Another blind offer comes in, again over 30% lower than the asking price.  I ring up the enquirer.  She has no idea how much she can spend because she has not made any enquiries about her lending capacity.  Notwithstanding this, they are out in six weeks.  I pass on our banking and lending partner details and send some details of properties which may fit the bill.  A client from the far plains where once roamed Hannibal emails to confirm our RV on Thursday.  I suggest a property to him that has just come back onto the books.  A gorgeous mill - reservation contract signed 10 months ago - and the buyer has just admitted that he hasn't got enough credit to buy.  The sellers are fuming with the agent who apparently hasn't communicated with them, and left them to deal directly with the notary. 

This is my second bite of the cherry on this mill.  A couple from the US made an offer on it with me within two months of it coming onto the market.  The notary (with whom I no longer work after this debacle) had one month to produce the reservation contract.  Despite my providing him with all the information and documentation from the parties, four weeks later it was not ready.  The reservation contract is a pro forma into which individual information is slotted.  My clients got on a boat to cruise back to the States.  By the time they got off the boat, they had changed their minds.  If they had signed before they had got on the boat, it would have been too late to change their minds when they disembarked.

This notary was also the one who insisted that another couple of my buyers, come back from the UK to sign the reservation contract, instead of signing a power of attorney.  They duly came back, popped around to see the owner without my being present, and the owner decided to show them all the saltpetre behind the furniture.  They were terrified and didn't sign.  Saltpetre isn't anything to worry about and is present in a lot of old houses.

If you have a burning urge to read more about saltpetre, here you go

http://leavingmynormal.blogspot.fr/2015/02/there-is-something-in-water.html

After lunch I head off south and the mountains are glorious and covered with snow as thick and crisp and glossy as Royal Icing.  The seller contacted me after I had spontaneously contacted all of the local gites and chambres d'hôtes to try and find some interesting new property.  I thought I was going to see a gite so imagine my joy when it turned out to be an early 18th century manor house plus a gite plus two hectares of land!

The owners have a thriving chambre d'hôte business and they showed me around the bedrooms.  Each one had its theme - one was art deco and had life size murals of willowy 1920s ladies painted onto the plaster panels which framed the fireplace.  There were stained glass feature windows in deep river greens and cinammons and oranges and a freehand painted chain of ivy romping around the dado rail.  Another room had special straw plasterwork and the walls had a delightful matt texture and, on close inspection, tiny chips of embedded straw.  In this room, chalk paint had been used on the doors and fireplace.  One room was being made over and the new sink was made of stone which came from Romania and contained many shell fossils.  

Typical of a manor house, the tall pitched roof was slate tiled and plaster rendered, with interior shutters as well as exterior.  The windows were framed with substantial stone revetments and some were in original early 18th century style with a thick band of stone forming the base of the upper two panes in a typical two upper/one lower page configuration.

We had coffee in the drawing room and I told them that I needed to go home and think about the price.  It is going to be around a million.

Considerably buoyed by this experience, I went next to see the house of the couple whom I had met whilst walking around the lake on Sunday.  A large contemporary property, it sits on the outskirts of our town, and is on a normally very quiet lane.  A few years ago, a terrorist came to stay with his mother and was hoicked out by the national police, but that is another story.  They have two cocker spaniels with huge doleful eyes.  One was called Noggin, a word which makes me laugh.   The house was well built but suffers from its location on the plot.  Once built, the owners realised that the only way you could see the views was from upstairs, so they have an 'upside down' configuration with a huge upstairs room and balcony and bedrooms and bathrooms downstairs.  The kitchen was large and the man proudly showed me how every cupboard and drawer worked.  He must have spotted my huge doleful eyes looking at the De Longhi coffee machine because, after a while, he finally finished showing me the last drawer and offered a drink.  We sat outside and the sun was warm and they told me about their travels and the dogs invited us to throw golf balls.

Home at 6.30 and OH still down the rental units so I whip up a huge Spanish omelette and salad.  Very tired - ran out of my thyroid medication two days ago.   

No reply from the would be buyers but, thanks to natty programme called Sidekick, I know that they have opened the email seven times during the day.

How much sharper than a serpent's tooth (is the drill of the dentist)

Thursday 5 March 2015

Sunshine!!  5 degrees rising to 12 degrees

Thursday is one of my favourite days of the week.  I get to go down the market, root around in the charity shop, and drink coffee and catch up with friends.  Today, oh joy, the sun has made its reappearance and bright puffy clouds are scudding along at great speed.  The lawn is sparkling and dewy.  Whatever it is that is in the loft that given me a night's respite from its rootings and chewings, and I feel ready to get up and welcome the day.

OH declares his intention to come down and work in the rental unit whilst I 'gallivant' around the market.  I put on my new crystal and think 'synchronicity', I am ready for what you are about to send my way.  We park up on the outskirts of the town and are cutting through the narrow cobbled streets towards the centre, when an English couple stops us and asks for directions to the market.  OH immediately engages them in conversation (think he misses being in sales) and they say they will be looking to buy in the area - OH immediately tells them that I am an estate agent (without letting me get a word in sideways).  Ah, says the man, that is synchronicity....   OH goes off to paint and I take them for a coffee and they are charming and coming back with their family in the Summer to check out the area.  We swap details and they leave smiling.  How good is that!  I rub my crystal and say, well done you.

The bar in which we had been drinking the coffee has recently undergone a substantial renovation.  It has lost its squashy sofas and the days newspaper.  The bar stools, which accommodated bottoms of all sizes, have also been culled.  The lighting is subtle - which means for old gits like me - you cant see what you are drinking after twilight falls.  The older clientele are perching unhappily on the new stools or are parked at the spindly tables.  In the toilet, there is more subtle lighting, including fish shapes, circling around the walls.  If I didn't love the people behind the bar, I would not be going in their any more.  The new owner is looking to attract younger clientele and will be opening up a music venue in the back room. The people who live down town will really love that and the timid policeman will not be sleeping easy in his bed.  He is the one who went around to see the woman with the dogs who were aggressive with me.  He told her that I had complained and when she started to argue with him - he just passed the phone over to me

http://leavingmynormal.blogspot.fr/2015/01/somewhat-shaken-with-good-news-later.html

I leave when I see the owner approaching and I know he is going to ask if I like the change and I know I will have to say no.

Here are some photos of today's market:

1950s booklets

Hats ahoy

Anyone for pork?

Telling a story

Supine jeans and very scary leggings

Mountain chic

Installation or for sale?  Figurines demand table status

OH rings me up and is very excited.  A Chinese guy who he recognises from the gym, is visiting one of the other flats in the building.  I am to go immediately and find him and show him our flats.  I go to the Chinese restaurant and explain slowly and carefully to the Chinese girl on reception that I am looking for the man who is Chinese who goes to the gym and does he work here?  She smiles and nods throughout and then says, Do you want to eat?  I say do you understand me and she smiles and says No.  I run around to the gym and rifle through the membership cards to see if I can find a Chinese name.  No joy.  I hover in the queue and wait for the receptionist to get around to me.  Behind his head is a large screen, advertising the various membership options and services available.  Who should pop onto the screen, carefully massaging green slime into a smiling and happy client's back, but the Chinese guy.  Aha moment!!  He is not there but will be there later on in afternoon.

Unhappily, I have a date with my dentist.  He is from Corsica and he is absolutely gorgeous with black hair, malteser brown eyes and great teeth.  He is also very solicitous and keeps asking me if I am OK.  I tell him he will know if I am not OK because I jump.  Ah yes, he says.  He immobilises me and pumps in great, jump inhibiting, quantities of anaesthetic and takes out my fragile crown.  The receptionist comes in and there has been a mix up between two clients and they and the nurse try and sort it out on the screen there and then. You are getting a little break, Signora B, says the dentist happily.  My breathing at this point has almost gone back to a normal rhythm.  I hate the smell of burning tooth, the sickliness of blood on my tongue and especially the various drill noises - the high mosquito whine, the droning of the medium needle but what I particularly hate is the deep grinding of the heavy duty jobbie.  I make the mistake of opening my eyes and see that he has a needle the size of a mutant wasps sting and is about to insert it into my tender gum.  I ask him if he has nearly finished and he has.  His nurse is a trainee and keeps running into tables and my feet.  Finally, after an hour, it is over and I have a temporary crown which is slightly too long but I will have to put up with for ten days.  I go and slurp a coffee and get pitying looks from people on surrounding tables.  

I go back to the gym and the Chinese guy isnt there and so I leave a message and go home and feel exhausted and discover people have been falling out on the group and someone has left.  PM people and tell the offenders they are on point.

Great British Sewing Bee semi final night and it is leather and lace, with a wetsuit to alter.  I loved Neil's contribution of a well fitting halter neck rubber top and lovely lace skirt.  The winning article from Debbie was a bit of a monstrosity.  I do love Claudia Winkleman - she gives wonderful innenuendos such as 'they want it stiff and big' and 'this is my first time boning'

To bed early.