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...
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