Sunday, July 01, 2007

All quiet on the upper front...

If I go quiet for a few weeks, it is because I'm in the process of moving house. I'm out of the old one but not completely into the new one yet. High 9 Isle should have become UpperShaft as of 1st July.

My life being my life, things never work out quite right. On Friday, my Dad and I cleaned from 930am to 1030pm, scrubbing mould off walls, packing my stuff and washing skirting boards and picture rails and sewing up sofas. All the eczema on my arms has bloomed or blossomed into spectacular patches reminiscent of the four different types of mould I scrubbed from various parts of the house. There was white downy mould on the wall behind the sofa that smelt like stilton cheese. There was crumbly yellow blooming mould on the clothes and shoes I’d stored under my bed. The black spotty mould that looked like bird excrement splattered across the walls in the corners of the room. Finally there was a deep forest green mould that appeared elsewhere as it saw fit. As my Dad put it, it was a politically correct multi coloured mould household.

I’ve also learnt a valuable lesson on if you want a job done properly you should always do it yourself. Or to spell out to people exactly what you want done. Its such a shame you can’t be a nice person and get things done. The letting company inspection went quite badly thank to Hannah not scrubbing the oven till it was clean, and so Matt’s dad got onto his hands and knees and scrubbed it while the rest of us wiped cupboards and transported bikes and negotiated deposits.

The new house is inhabitable, but builders are everywhere. When I arrive, there was no carpet in the hall ways, no gas, no hot water, people painting walls, stalling washing machines, bringing in furniture and instead of a lounge, the sofas are piled high in a corner while builders tools are scattered across the floor. Apparently, they are finishing it today, and then the double beds are being delivered on Tuesday. There are some beds in there, but I am going to stay at my gran’s as the one night I did stay, I was woken by builders storming in at 8am unannounced.

I really really just want to get in there and unpacked and settled into this new chapter of my life. When the house is finished it will be lovely. My room is big and bright and airy. The bathrooms are finished to nearly hotel standard. It’s just taking far too long!

1 comment:

nickbailey said...

Just as the praying mantis waits patiently for it's pray so must you, young grasshopper, wait for your room.

But just as the buzzard's reward for its sentinel hover is great, such will your room be even more a greater reward for your present delay, oh wise mongoose.