12 August 2014 (Tuesday) - White Van Man
I was up relatively early and came downstairs to find "Furry Face TM" asleep. No "potty accidents" last night; for which I was grateful. I watched another episode of "Saxondale" over brekkie, checked the Internet and saw Robin Williams had died. Facebook was heaving with tributes to the chap. Personally I always found his humour over-rated. Yet again I am in the minority.
I walked into town to Enterprise-rent-a-car (what other firm could I use?) and after less than five minutes had the van keys in my hand. This is the second time I've used this firm and so far they have been really good. I had a dodgy few minutes trying to work out where to stick the keys, but soon enough the van was parked up outside home.
"er indoors TM" had just emerged from her pit, and a quick phone call woke "My Boy TM" who was soon with us. We loaded one or two odds and ends into the van and set off to Folkestone where "Daddies Little Angel TM" was relocating from the War Bunker (!) to somewhere more salubrious.
I've helped friends and family move before. I have memories of sofas wedged in hallways, of freezers still full of food, of people honestly expecting me to move wardrobes stuffed full of clothes, of endless flights of stairs. If more moves went like today's I'd be more inclined to get involved with more moves.
We arrived to find taht everything was packed and it really was as simple as moving all of the stuff out of the War Bunker and into the van. Unloading at the new place was rather tricky as the road was narrow and with nowhere to park we had no choice but to stop in the middle of the road and whenever a car came I had to do a "round the block" with the van. We unloaded in a fraction of the time it took to load up, and went back for the heavy stuff. It was heavy, but there was a lot less of it; and all the actual moving was done by mid day.
We had a quick spot of lunch, moved teh heavy stuff to where it was needed, put some beds together and left them to it.
The van hire agreement was that I put as much fuel into the van as I had used; I thought a tenner's worth of diesel would be fair so we stopped off at Sainsbury's filling station to get fuel. There was a minor hold up at the checkout. The woman at the front of teh queue was having a major cob. Someone else had paid for her petrol and had since driven off. The spotty girl behind the counter felt that if said woman paid for the petrol that the chap who had settled her bill had taken all would be well. However the bloke who'd paid for this woman's petrol wasn't daft. He'd put fifty quid's worth into his car and paid for thirty quid's worth. The woman holding the queue up was happy to pay for the petrol she'd taken but wasn't going to pay twenty quid over the odds. Spotty checkout girl wanted her till not to be twenty quid adrift.
These things are always amusing to watch... all the time it is someone else in the thick of it.
Once home I phoned the vet's. I'd had a message that "Furry Face TM" was due his annual once-over. The nice lady told me that he wasn't due until mid-September and they didn't like doing dogs early. I did toy with the idea of suggesting that if they didn't want me to book early then they shouldn't contact me early. But I bit my toungue and made an appointment for six weeks time.
I then took that dog for a walk, and came home to a rather good bit of tea washed down with a bottle of plonk. I went on-line and squabbled about how phones are better for geocaching than GPS units, then we went out for the Tuesday gathering. I actually stayed awake for this week's installment of the100. I'm not sure about this show; it doesn't actually have any likeable characters in it. There are either outright villains, or characters about which you just don't care. But I shall give it a little longer before dismissing it out of hand...