I woke at 3am and went
for a tiddle. I didn't turn on any of the lights in the house because
I knew the way. However not turning on any of the lights meant that I
didn't see the tennis ball that a certain small dog had left laying
around. I didn't actually end up on my bum but I certainly twisted
something.
I drove down to
Folkestone. The nice people from the council had finally deeclared
that "Daddies Little Angel TM" s
flat had just too much mould and damp for it to be a safe environment
for a littlun and had offered them somewhere in Maidstone Road until
they can sort out somewhere more permanent. So I went to Folkestone.
What with the traffic it took an hour, but once there I loaded my car
full of their stuff and took it all back home.
I drove back to
Folkestone; this time taking ages because my way was blocked by the
frankly rubbish parking of the lorry of Folkestone Scaffolding. Why
on Earth did they block up the entire street when they could have
pulled over and parked by the pavement? I'm no expert but I aalways
thought that parking your vehicle on the side of the road by the
pavement (rather than in the center of the road along the white
lines) was standard practice.
I arived to find the nice
man & van we'd hired had arrived. They took the heavy bulky
furniture to storage. I loaded up my car again, drove home again, and
unloaded this lot.
My third trip to
Folkestone was fortunately somewhat easier. But by now my tennis
elbow was playing up, and slipping on the mopped floor didn't help
the back I'd twisted earlier. But nevertheless I filled my car with a
third load of stuff that wasn't to go into storage, took that lot
home (to a rather full living room) then went back to
Folkestone; this time to collect people to fetch back.
We were only fifteen
minutes late for the appointment at the council offices; then I took
them to their new home. It seems a nice enough sort of place. We then
came home for the stuff they will need over the next few days and
took that to the new place.
Pausing only briefly for
"Daddies Little Angel TM" to lose
her phone I came home. The plan was then to move all the crap out of
the living room and store it upstairs. We shifted some of it. But my
elbow hurts too much to continue.
"My Boy TM"
says he will shift it in the morning. He's a good lad. I've scoffed
some paraccetamols; I'm going to fall asleep in front of the telly
now....
No comments:
Post a Comment