I
took the dogs to Kings Wood again this morning. As we drove there was an
article on the radio about the Knights Templar. I’ve heard so many talks and
lectures on the subject, and every time the person speaking takes an
interesting subject and kills it stone dead. After five minutes I turned the
radio off.
We
got to the woods and did the same walk we’ve done on the last two days. A good
walk. Treacle ran into the woods and played with the puppies today which was a
result; the last two times we’ve been there she barely left my side.
We
chased squirrels and pheasants. We barked at passers-by. We ate horse poo. Some
passing dogs played with us; others were leaded up and dragged away. I’ve often
wondered why so many people put a dog on a short lead so far into the woods…
After
an hour or so we were back where we started. We came home where I settled the
dogs and then (as they snored) I drove up to the town where I used my
RingGo app to park. I had a quick Munz, then had a rather frustrating hour.
Firstly
in the post office where I queued for seemingly ages where only one of four
windows were open.
And
then in the bank where they (the only chap in there) flatly refused to
honour a cheque made payable to dad’s estate. Mind you, have you been into the
Ashford branch of HSBC recently? It’s all automated. And I mean *all*.
Everything is self-service machines and there is one poor chap running round
like a headless chicken trying to deal with all the issues that can’t be sorted
by the automation.
I
came home and phoned the bank. When I spoke to them last week they told me they
*would* honour a cheque make payable to “The Executor of,,,”, but
today they were telling a different story. Since my name isn’t “The Executor
of…” I can’t have any cheques made payable to that. I wonder how other executors
cope?
Once
all of Dad’s estate is settled and sorted I’m going to change my bank. I’ve not
been happy with them for years. When you phone them you just get someone who
can barely speak English who is reading from a script. Up till now I’ve always
contented myself with the knowledge that if the worst comes to the worst I can
go to the local branch. Clearly that’s no longer an option.
I
phoned the TV licencing people – the cheque I’m having trouble with is the
refund of Dad’s TV licence. They were really helpful and said if I could send
it back to them, they would send out a cheque payable to me.
So
I wrote a letter.
In
fact I wrote two as Dad’s pension people have offered to pay a “bereavement
grant” to go toward the cost of the funeral (even though Dad paid for it
years ago). Two letters… how quaint. Who writes letters these days?
Fortunately in the stuff I found in Dad’s living room (when we were clearing
out) were two books of stamps…
Then
the funeral director phoned. We were going to pop in with photos of Dad for the
service sheets… I thought we’d dropped them off already. I emailed them some
photos.
All
trivia, but trivia which took over two hours to sort.
“er indoors TM” is boiling up some dinner. I think I might
crack open that bottle of Hock I bought before Tuesday’s night shift. For a day
off, today has been hard work.
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