South to Granada

Wednesday 22 April 2015
Cloudy with sunny spells 22 degrees

Sierra Nevada

Many, many olive trees

Poodles on parade

Wednesday 8 April 2015

Sunny 22 degrees

10 am finds me lurking in a car park and waiting for a client from the coast.  He arrives on time and backs his virulently yellow soft top car into the parking space.  A small apricot poodle peers out of the sun roof.  I am very surprised because the house the client has asked to see does not fit at all with his appearance.  The client and the dog appear from the car and I suggest we all go in together and the man says he will drive.  The dog is put out because I have her seat so she sits on the man's knees and we head for the first property. It is a large farmhouse with extensive lands and is fully modernised.  The owners and their massive black hunting dogs are enjoying the sun, some cigarettes and in the case of the dogs, chasing some large pieces of shredded cardboard around the terrace.  It is interesting how people, dogs and houses go together.  In my experience, people with flashy handbags, small dogs or sparkly shoes would never do renovations, people with large dogs are up for a challenge and people with young kids just want to be found a quick solution.

The client sucks his teeth and the dog pants and he tells me that this is not at all the house he had chosen.  We have to go and see it in any event because the owners are there and waiting but the visit is over in a very short period of time.  It transpires that he had wanted to see a small manor house with pool and virtually no garden and had mixed up the reference numbers.   I am now, stuck in his car, so he says he will drive on and he drives very, very slowly and I am running out of conversation when we arrive at the second house.  The owners are away and there is just a workman, sanding down the gates.  Because it is mid morning, the passage of lorries is fairly heavy but this doesn't seem to put him off at all.  He says he will get Madame to come and look at it and we wend our way back, slowly except in the case of the road bumps, which he takes at some speed and the dog shoots into the air and goes to sulk on the back bucket seat.

He leaves me back at my car and I feel the need for coffee.  OH is out doing shopping. Workmen are starting to file in for lunch and the sun is cracking the flags.  Ah, bliss....

Back home and then out to do an estimation of value at a nearby farm.  The owner looks confused when I get there and says he thought it was tomorrow.  Go back home.  I am not having a good day here.   Internet is back on when I get home so I ring people up, including the notary to ask her about my would be buyers for the house in town.  One advocate has said the damages may be 4k and another said they might be 20k.  The notary says only the judge can establish the amount of the prejudice and she has no idea where the advocates are pulling these figures from.  She also says that my would be buyers cant have a condition put into the contract, limiting their exposure to damages payable to a third party, outside of the parties mentioned in the contract.

The combination of cortisone and anti biotics is making the inside of my mouth flake and puff and I have the most revolting taste in my mouth.  Somewhat alleviated by wine and chocolate.

Infamy, infamy! And we are running out of wood.

31 March 2015

Periods of heavy drizzle
13 degrees

We are nearly out of wood and the holidays are two weeks away.  The idea was that we would get back from holiday and not need any more wood because it will be May, and in the way of May, would be lovely and warm.  OH has taken to looking at the old beams in the barn and we may have a reprise of Angela's Ashes over the next few days.  Wet weather continues.  Last May was cold and wet.  The weather has definitely gone downhill over the 11 years we have been out in Europe but has still a way to go to be as bad as it was where we lived in the UK.

I go and see the doctor and show him my itchy elbow and neck and alas, he says it is psoriasis and is often caused by stress.  I have been stressed by sitting in his waiting room for over an hour whilst the previous patient waffled on about nothing in particular and left, looking in the best of health.  He suggests I take up a calming activity such as yoga or meditation.  I say I don't feel that stressed and he says my body is feeling it and showing it. I also show him the strange mole type thing on my chest and he says I will have to go and see a dermatologist and, no, he doesn't think it is a skin cancer.  My mammogram form arrives in the post.  Infamy, infamy; they've all got it in for me....  I google psoriasis and there are some truly revolting pictures.

On the work front, I go back and take on market the beautiful domaine and holiday home property south towards the mountains.  A return of investment of 10% is possible but the buyer will need to have deep pockets to purchase it.  I take the dog with me and we have a stagger around a muddy field.  The options for running off are limited because there is a whopping, pounding river at the end of the field, and barbed wire all around.  Alas, the coffee shop in the next village is closed so I go back home, have quick lunch and then down to the rental units with OH.

OH has been working in the rental unit now since the beginning of the year and it is still a long way from being finished.  I arrive and do some cleaning and then look at what is meant to be going where in the kitchen area.  Basically, there is not enough room to fit in a washing machine and it is going to have to go in the newly created cupboard (now complete with new, narrow door).  We do some measuring and the only other alternative is to move the sink, which is currently fixed to the wall, and with huge holes in the back where OH has made access to the pipes for the washing machine.  I ask why the washing machine pipes are behind the sink and am told I know nothing, and I have never plumbed in a washing machine.  I should have kept a closer eye on this project.  It will never be finished before we go away.  I wanted to put it on market for Easter.  When, and if, we go back to the UK, I am paying registered artisans to do the work in the house, even if I have to work full time to fund it.

The seller of the town house which is the subject of much wrangling by the two buyers rings me with some news.   Her advocate says she must sign with the other agency or she will be in trouble.  My would be buyers send me a letter they have received from their advocate, saying because my buyers are cash and the other ones aren't, then the sellers have a legitimate reason to withdraw from their engagement with the other buyers. Her advocate has asked to see the copy of the reservation contract signed by the other buyers, with the other agency.

A sale that is still lingering from last year has suddenly acquired some life.  The new owner has applied for change of use and the notice has to be posted in the window of the house for 2 months, during which time the Mayor or a bailiff must pass and see that it is correctly posted and then locals have the right to object.  A problem is that the owner's father, who is an alcoholic and either in the bars or asleep, is alone at the house and I cannot rely on him to put up the notice.  The owner's mother is with her adult children in Oz and the owner lives in China.  Great.  I will have to enlist the aide of a local lady who is friends with the family.