2 October 2010 (Saturday) - Moving House
Up with the lark and off to work. Since I discovered that I can get paid overtime for working Saturday mornings, I’ve been rather keen to do them. Work was much the same as ever and then home for the business of the day. Today was one of those days when so much had been planned, and events had conspired against me.
Originally the idea was to go to
to the Brick Lane Curry Festival, but having had to shell out for a new boiler meant that economies had to be made. For the same reason we’d turned down an invitation to the South of England show. Instead we thought we might go visit a friend of a friend who keeps alpacas (a sort of mini-llama) but she was busy today. In the end we helped Chip move house. “Moving house” is one of those phrases which are so easy to type, but not quite so easy to do. London
We set off from home to Chip’s with three cars between us, and on the way my mobile rang. I quickly checked to see who was calling. It was my mother. She never rings my mobile. But I couldn’t answer in heavy traffic, nor could I stop. As I tried to find somewhere to pull up, my mind was racing. Why would she be ringing my mobile? It must be something serious. When I finally pulled up I had resigned myself to there having been a death in the close family. I could honestly think of no other reason for my mother to ring me on my mobile. She answered the phone, and happily announced that they were going on holiday in a few days time. She’s been on holiday so many times, and has never told me about it before. What was so vital about this holiday? In retrospect I was relieved, but I could have wrung necks at the time.
And then ‘er indoors TM excelled herself. Having voomed off in front of everyone else, she arrived half an hour late, having been shopping for groceries. Eventually we loaded up five cars full of assorted stuff and drove off to his new domicile (!). No one told me he was on the second floor. I suppose that exercise is good for me, but there’s no denying that I did puff as I heaved stuff up those stairs. I dread to think what Chip’s new neighbours must have thought as they climbed over me as I lay down outside his new home for a breather.
“Daddies Little Angel TM ” brought a smile to her Daddies face. As she wrestled with “Arfur” (arf a table) the table won the fight by swinging out its extension and copping her a sixpenny one around the earholes. I have often said that there is never anything as amusing as someone else’s misfortunes.
After a smashing bit of tea I then backed up my blog to my archive, provided by the sterling fellow over at the Energize Group. I’d not actually done a backup for two months. Had Blogger and my home PC gone west, what a loss to humanity that might have been.
I spent the remainder of the evening in NeverWinter where I have been asked to retrieve a golden chalice from a spider-infested crypt. Moving house was more fun, but less tiring…