LostInDyscordia

Rear Mudguard fetish...

2009-12-07T22:40:00.000Z

As you can see some British shit has stolen my rear mudguard. This is the third rear mudguard that I've had stolen this year. Two in Amsterdam and now one in Rugby. What is it with rear mudguards?

And this time they took the saddle off, removed the mudguard and then replaced that saddle? What's wrong with my damn saddle? It's a good saddle! Admittedly it has had a lot of wear and lets the water in a little which is why I have a bag over it. Keeps it dry so the leak isn't a problem.

Oh, and they stole my handlebars too.

The next phase...

2009-11-30T20:04:00.001Z

I have found my true calling. I've always known that I liked 'real' things. Things that you can hold in your hand and have weight. Things made of wood, leather and metal. Synthetic and plastic have never held a place in my heart, although I do recognise that many things would not, indeed could not have come about without plastic and so, that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Now I have found something that is perfect and yet totally against my principles. Erm, yeah, I know, but life is complicated, right. Well, pay Herr Döktor a visit and you'll see.

I love it as it takes everything that we have now and adds the Victorian touch. Brass, wood, leather and the like. But of course there is then the fact that although it 'looks' like that, it is all made from plastic and 'faked'.

So, since I already do my Little Men I think that this might just be the natural extension to that hobby. Who knows, I may even get a few hours to rub together next year and try it...

Answers on a postcard to...

2009-11-28T20:27:00.000Z

The other day I heard my neighbours arguing. Well, technically I heard the girl friend shouting a lot and nothing else. There were gaps in her verbal onslaught so I assume that the boy friend was speaking back, but that he was using a normal restrained voice level. The screaming fit carried on for a while and I thought nothing of it. That was until she uttered the following sentence...

I'm not having *that* in my f#cking bed!

Now, I just can't think of what Mr Nextdoor would want in their bed that would warrant such a response. There were no clues in her previous rants. They don't have any pets that I know of. There were no mechanical noises.

So what was it that (I assume that) he wanted in bed that she wasn't going to allow. I needs to know!

Boxes

2009-11-19T12:25:00.001Z

This was my dining room last week. Things have improved, but not by a whole lot...

On the run...

2009-11-19T09:45:00.001Z

Well, on the move anyway. Life is far to hectic and busy right now for me to find both the time and the desire to blog inmy usual fashion. It has just occured to me that, even though I'm on Android and not Apple, "there's an app for that" on my mobile. So, here I am posting a long over due blog entry from my desk at work via my mobile. Thankfully my mobile has a fairly good keyboard and a reliable interweb connection. Assuming that this gets me back into the habit of blogging (and I hope that it does) then I'll see if I can find a client with the ability to do more formatting and maybe even add pics. We shall see.

In related news, I am happy to announce that where as before I had a bed in my storeroom, I now have a few boxes to unpack in my bedroom. This rather technical distinction is a very important one to me especially as I can now walk around my bed and get to my wardrobe where my clothes are. Also you will notice subtly hidden in that statement that I do actually *have* a wardrobe.

Metamorphosis

2009-10-18T18:17:00.000+01:00

I'm a changed man after yesterday. Not only do I now have internet and the wonders of multichannel TV in my house (although not a landline telephone yet), I am now White Van Man, nothing can stop me. I shall wander the streets of Rugby, purchasing furniture and setting it in a suitable place in my house until I live in a furnished property.

Yesterday began with me calling Virgin Media only to wait on hold for 20mins. This was made worse by the fact that the automated menu seemed to think that it was more important to allow me to choose the sort of music that I wanted to listen to whilst I was on hold than to get me off hold. Then I was told that I needed to speak to a different department and quickly ended up on hold again, but listening to music that made me want to rip my ears off. When connected I was told again that it was the wrong department and I had to go on hold again. When I finally got through to a lady that accepted that her job was to help me, she proceeded to tell me that she couldn't because of a problem with her computer. I expressed a little disappointment and all of a sudden Virgin Media - The Worst Customer Service I've Had In Years turned into Virgin Media - Who Will Do (Almost) Anything To Please. It was astonishing. No charge for the TV and internet until the phone also works. They will call me back and arrange everything. I was almost impressed.

As soon as all that was done I went out and bought the van. That was easy by comparison. Even the insurance was fairly painless.

The availability of four wheels and the ability to carry 'stuff' rather went to my head and I promptly filled three trolleys at Asda and rather abused my credit card.

Today was rather quiet by comparison. My fridge/freezer and washine machine were delivered and both appear to work. I returned to Asda to fill one and my laudry basket took care of the other.

So I am once again in my house, still without furiture, but several steps closer to a normal life again.

Tomorrow I just have to go to work.

So far, so good.

2009-10-04T22:17:00.000+01:00

So, I've been back in the UK for five weeks now. And how's it going I hear you ask? Not bad I think, but still quite a way to go. Here is a summary of what I've done.

Job: Well, I'm back to contracting again and have set up my new company, The Famulus Ltd. I've got myself a six month contract with a bank in London so the money is starting to come in again. I've been working for one week now and it looks like it's going to be a fun time.

Motorbike: I've bought myself another Kawasaki ZZR1100. It's perfect for the long motorway journeys that sit between home and my clients. I'll still be using the trains over the winter, but when the sun is out or at least it's not too cold or raining too hard I'll be on it. For the moment I'm doing 220 miles a day but that will drop to about 190 miles once I move back to Rugby.

House: I'm not quite sorted on the house front. I've found one and the process is underway. If I'm lucky I should have the keys within a week and then I can start moving in.

Four wheels: I'm going to buy myself a van. I'm working on the principle that since I need to collect all of my stuff from Holland and I'll be buying furniture, a van will be much more useful than a car. I don't have much in the way of furniture in Holland but I have more boxes of stuff than I can explain. It's probably going to take two trips. The house I'm renting is unfurnished so I'm going to more or less have to start from scratch. Luckily my parents and sister seem happy to give away half of their furniture to a good cause.

So, I'm hoping to be in a house on my lonesome in a week and to have all of my stuff within the month. Then, mortgage applications and house searches allowing, the plan is to be in my own house within the year.

Wish me luck.

I'm happy, can you tell?

2009-09-27T18:14:00.001+01:00

Yesterday I finally paid for and collected my new mode of transport. It's not actually new, in fact it's 13 years old, but it's new to me. It's almost exactly the same as my previous bike that died on the A9 just south of Amsterdam in 2002. This one is one year and two versions newer than my old bike bt as far as I can see this translates into me getting a clock on the dash.

The important thing though is that it rides just like my old one and feels the same. It's wonderful in a straight line, as sports tourers should be and therefore a bugger to get around a corner. Not too many sharp corners on the M1 though, so that's good. I do have to do a few wiggly bits around London but nothing that we can't handle together.

So, all I have to do is my best to keep the speed down and keep a constant eye out for dozy car drivers trying to kill me and all will be well. And for the record, there is someone else that seemed to quite like the bike...

Are they trying to piss me off?

2009-09-23T15:58:00.000+01:00

Last Thursday I lost my wallet. That's bad enough, but since then it would seem that everyone I talk to had a big party last night, got hammered and really aren't up to speed today. I've got the new PIN for my credit card, but no credit card, I've got the new debit card, but no PIN. DVLA have a recorded message saying that you don't even have to tell them that your diving licence (does that mean that I need one at all?) has gone missing and the one set of competent people that I have spoken to (the Police) just weren't that interested.

But since my debit card was here I can at least use that to make telephone purchases, right? Nope. I rang up to activate the card and the automated system got it's knickers in a twist, twice and told me that the card was valid but not valid. This justified every bad thought that I have ever had about automated telephone systems (and there have been many, I assure you) so I rang a real person. They assured me that my card was now activated and useable. So I tried to use it. That didn't work; the card was rejected. So I rang my bank again. They accused me of having called them on Monday to cancel the new card that I didn't have yet. I assured them that this was not the case, obviously and so they did a little digging to find the problem. Firstly, it appears that one of their operators decided on Monday to cancel the card that they had issued to me. No one knows why except the operator who isn't available for comment. Secondly, the woman that I spoke to this morning didn't check the card numbers and has now activated the new 'new' card that is currently in the post on it's way to me. A lot of good that will do me.

So, I still can't pay for my motorbike insurance. But since I can't pay for the bike without a credit card, all a bit accademic really...

Getting my new company up and running is going much more smoothly, even though I am still completing more forms than you can shake a stick at to complete the process. My company has existed less than a week and I have already had three items of junk mail. It doesn't bode well, does it?

I'm not even going to start on the request I made to find out my National Insurance Number a couple of weeks ago or the hassle it is getting a new driving licence. Government websites are only there to give us grief, I'm sure of it.

The Good, the Bad and the Expletives

2009-09-18T11:13:00.000+01:00

The Good

Right up until 4pm today, lots of good things happened. I dog sat for a couple of hours this morning, I chatted with my dad about putting a fence up at the end of his garden and then I went shopping. I bought a helmet that is matt black and yet still qualifies as a shiny thing*, jeans that have armour built in, gloves that have big shiny plastic bits on and boots that have replaceable toe sliders. I negotiated a good discount (IMHO) and then decided to go and buy the reason for all of these bits; a motorbike. Before getting my car from the car park I decided to get thirty quid from a hole in the wall just to be safe. I then paid for my parking and headed to the car, bags in hand.

The Bad

The motorbike wasn't in a rideable condition since the front brakes had siezed. Since I had specifically gone over for a test ride, I wasn't pleased. This bike is a little newer than my last motorbike but otherwise identical. I loved my last one, so I'm expecting good things of this one. After some hard bargaining with the man in charge we came to a deal that suited us both. Not actually that bad as I will get the bike, just not in time to use it to get to work on Monday.

The Expletives
When I arrived at the garage to test the bike, I couldn't find my wallet. I ripped the car apart but couldn't find it. I even returned to the car-park but it wasn't there. The air was blue.

Of course having all of my stuff in storage in Holland isn't helping. Not only have I lost my credit and debit cards and my driving licence, I had a couple of other bits of paper that had encrypted codes on it. My backups, are, you guessed it, in Holland.

Life goes on...

What? Still Aive?

2009-09-12T20:48:00.001+01:00

Yes folks, I'm not actually dead and slumpt over my PC. No. It's much worse, I have been given the opprtunity to have a bit of a life again.

You see, I am return-ed.

Two weeks ago tomorrow, I flew back to the UK for good. Yes, OK I'm ignoring the holidays and other such visits to the continent, but I am now, once again, a UK resident. Not that I've actually told anyone officially.

Anyway, I've spent the last two weeks trying to get myself settled and the first step has been made. I've been harrassing every IT Freelancing Agent in the country and one of them came up trumps and got me an interview with a suitable client. I spent last Thursday in London trying to convince them that I was the man they needed and it appears that I succeded. So, on Monday 28th September, I start my new contract in London. It's another bank; since banks are about the only type of company that are willing to pay the silly fees that I charge. Of course, I charge them because they are willing to pay. Keeps us both happy I guess.

But this means that I have a two week wait before I start. This gives them time to get their managers back from holiday, do a security check on me and also (hopefully) set up all my user IDs etc so that I can actually start work when I arrive. I've therefore been busy buying shiny things and trying to prepare myself for life on the rock again. I've come up against my first hurdle already. In order to be employed here I need to start bandying around my National Insurance Number with gay abondon. However, I can't remember what it is. I have in written down on several bits of paper, all of which are in my shed in Holland. I've therefore had to resort to phoning the government department responsible for this sort of thing. Of course, they couldn't possibly tell me over the phone and indeed I couldn't even request it over the phone. No, I have had to write to them via snail mail and they will post it back to me. Nice to know that the civil service hasn't changed whilst I've been away.

And to add to the joy of it all, this is the address that I have to write to...

HM Revenue & Customs

National Insurance Contributions Office

Evening Work Centre

Benton Park View

Newcastle upon Tyne
NE98 1ZZ

Yes, "Evening Work Centre". Are they trying to tell me that I am so stupid for not knowing my NI number that they aren't even going to look at it during the day, no, they are going to put it aside until the evening. If they can be bothered of course...

Yes, hello I'm back...

2009-08-23T13:32:00.003+01:00

Hi,

Sorry for the prolonged absence, I've been, erm, well, doing stuff. Anyway, I'm back again and here is a little something that I've started on. I've agreed to paint a Skaven Doomwheel for a friend at work. I'm really hoping to get it done today, along with a whole load of other, non-painting related tasks.

Back to the Fungus

2009-08-09T21:31:00.001+01:00

Firstly I must apologise for the crap photos. I took them with the little camera in my room without any checking of the settings at all. The flash was off, so that the lighting is bad and I didn’t even check that they were sharp before going to the next step. Using the little camera is so easy, but you still actually have to at least try and take a good photo…

So, above is the before photo. I’ve not touch the beard for four weeks and this is what I got. Thankfully you can’t really see the vast amount of grey that has taken over the chin, but I must confess that it is there. And there with vengeance. It is probably there to set off the flecks that I have in the sides at the front. You can just about see some in this shot. A little above the ears. See it? Well, I don’t mind that. That adds to the distinguished look, but the beard, well that doesn’t look distinguished at all. I don’t think that I’ll even have a beard for long. It’s just too much hassle.

Then the first bit to go was the chin. I’m not doing anything here that is going to last, so I can try anything. Well that is the way I look at it. So, here I have trimmed my chin and nothing else. The hair on the lower lip is still there, but from the crease of the chin down, all the way under the chin is gone. I wasn’t that impressed with this look and so I swiftly moved on to the next style. I was hoping to try the full Fu Manchu but it appears that I really don’t have the patience to grow enough of a beard for that. Sorry.

This was an interesting stage. I was a little happier with it that the photo probably suggests. Yes, smiling whilst taking the photos wasn’t one of my strong points again. But this style, shows a basic sort of acceptability in my eyes. I didn’t feel the urge to keep it and I didn’t quite know how to turn it into anything better, but there was a hint of improvement from some of the other styles.

Removing the hair from the lower lip was a bad move I think. Me and just a moustache is bad. I’ve always known this and I have proved it true yet again. This style was quick to go…

And then it was time for the Silly Shot. Just because I could really and also, I guess, to prove that even if I can’t smile whilst having my photo taken, I can at least pull a silly face.

It would also appear that during my two week holiday, I’ve put on a few kilos. This is not a shock at all as the next three weeks will be an attempt to be beck to what I was…

After that, who knows…

My new addiction

2009-08-04T15:08:00.004+01:00

This stuff is just wonderful. Better than any cola (even better than Cherry Coke, I have to confess) and might be cause for me to start on the fizzy drinks again. This can only be bad since my guts don't react well to fizz it has to be said. I have no idea how many cans of this stuff I have drunk since I've been back but I think that we can all agree that the answer falls nicely into the Too Many category.

I'm even adding this to my official, motivational list of things that I will be glad to be back in the UK for. There aren't really that many things on the list yet, it has to be said. I've loved living in Holland for the last eight years (OK, technically one of them was in Luxembourg, but I returned to Holland for many of the weekends, so it kinda counts).

There are still several cans of this stuff in the larder at the moment, but I'm thinking that by the time that we leave this evening, that will no longer be the case...

Yum...

Face Fungus 2

2009-07-12T22:46:00.001+01:00

Well after two weeks of razor and trimmer free time I have once again just enough Face Fungus to have a play with. Now, before we go any further, I must first apologise for the facial expressions. I appears that pointing a camera at me makes my face go all nasty and stern looking. The only way to break this look is to do a massive smile and look like a complete idiot. No middle ground with me…

So here we have the raw face fungus. Untrimmed and totally untouched for almost exactly two weeks. It is no wonder that I got selected to be stopped at security by a man with body armour and a gun.

And today’s only real experiment was to trim back to a thin line. Not bad I feel but just not me. For one thing this is going to take more effort and precision to maintain than I can possibly muster. So no.

And so with a flick of the razor and a wrenching of the facial muscles I am left with a goatie rather lacking in length. It has been left to grow though and so we shall see if one day it can be turned into either a real goatie, a Fu Manchu or maybe a Frank Zappa. Who knows…

'Ere We Go Again, 2, 3, 4...

2009-07-10T09:17:00.000+01:00

Sorry people but it's going to happen again. Not content with my previous beardy efforts, I have decided that there are a few more styles that need trying. For one, I didn't get a proper Frank Zappa set going. That has to be done. I'm going to need a little more time, since the styles that I'm going for include dangly bits, but not too long I hope. I know you're all dying to see them, after all.

So, any requests? check out my previous efforts first at Face Fungus and then let me know.

They’re After Me!

2009-07-06T22:19:00.001+01:00

Back in March and April those of you that come back for regular updates on the sorry state of my life here in Amsterdam will know that I’ve been harassed since December by the road works out side my house. You’ll also know that not only have they been using bloody noisy jack hammers but they have been using them both day and night. Well, the works outside my house were due to finish at the end of May, just as I was due to return to England. However, I agreed to stay another three months and so they have very kindly agreed to keep the heavy machinery on a little longer. The pavement still isn’t finished but I have to say that most of the night time activity has stopped and the rest of it is just a little inconvenient.

But they have now decided that I need more incentive to leave and so the ROC School Amsterdam have decided to build some accommodation for foreign students. They have decided that the best place to build this is right outside my office window… Yes, that’s my windows in the redish building on the left of this photo. I sit just across from the corner window on the second floor. That is the large window, bottom right, above the light grey part of the building. They started by drilling large holes in the ground. Kinda like having a large, industrial mole in the garden. I’m guessing here, but I think that they must have drilled about 40, 50ft deep holes. Slightly annoying for a few days, but we can live with that kind of activity in the neighbourhood without due concern. Once the mole had left they then brought in the serious machinery. This next beast is the one that is going to fill the holes. But it’s not going to just pour concrete in or even bash poles into the ground as is common. No, this machine bashes a tube into the ground, fills the tube with concrete and reinforcing steel and then bashes the tube out of the ground again. I assume that the second set of bashing is either there just to annoy us or some pathetic reason such as ensuring that all the concrete settles into the hole. Who knows. Anyway, for those of you wishing to have a little sympathy for yours truly, this is what it does all day. And yes, we can feel the ground move.

The Girl Next Door.

2009-06-28T13:00:00.001+01:00

It’s not so much about her, it’s more that she is. OK. A little background. I live in the top floor of The House That Munt Built. This floor is split, front to back in 2 with a small corridor between. The front half is one big room, but the back half has been split into two smaller rooms, one of which mine. The problem is that the partition wall between these smaller rooms hasn’t got any sound insulation in it. This means that I can pretty much hear everything that goes on next door if I am being quiet. More worrying, they can thus hear everything that I am doing if they are quiet…

The Chef used to live the other side of the wall and he has a loud, deep voice and loves reggae music with massive amounts of bass. He’s not the smartest cookie in the jar and would always turn his hifi on, realise that it was on really loud and turn it down for me. Very considerate, but bearing in mind this was usually at 2am, the damage was already done. He worked the evening shift and so could have it up very loud during the day. Not playing music at 2am was not an option I ever managed to convince him to try. I even leant him my headphones, but remembering to plug them in took longer than it too to turn the music down from it’s daily setting.

So when he moved to the big room across the hall I was ecstatic. He’s been there a few months and life was good.

But now a woman (girl?) in her early 20s has moved in. I’m sure she is nice enough and all, but as Jilted John would say… ‘ere we go 2, 3, 4…

Face Fungus

2009-06-27T20:26:00.001+01:00

Just recently there has been much twittering of the Louchetache. I’m not sure who started it, but I know that several of my followees have been on about it for a while. Since I hadn’t shaved in a week or so, I decided that, since I couldn’t think of a good reason, not to grow one, I would grow one. Common sense and self respect would mean that it wouldn’t stay on my face for long, but it would be sculpted at least briefly and just as importantly, photographed in situ.

So, I grew a beard. I’m sorry that I’m not smiling in this picture but I was having serious problems not grinning like a Cheshire Cat a the thought of what was to come…

But before I got to the required horseshoe, Frank Zappa, or more entertaining 70s Pornstar style, I thought that I’d try the good old, standard goatie. By the way, I have decided to keep some chest hair in these shots since it adds nicely to the 70s Pornstar look, I think.

Now, keeping a straight face was almost impossible at this point…

And you really can’t imagine what was going through my head next…

But since things were going from silly to stupid, there was just one more that I had to try…

I won’t do the accent…

And then even that went…

Now, this is the first time that I have been clean shaven this year. I shaved once last year too, but I’m trying not to make a habit of it. I am now desperate for my stubble to return and make me look vaguely human…

The Great Royal Barbarian

2009-06-24T19:36:00.001+01:00

I was just having a quick gander over at my good friend Mister Ro when I noticed that he has made himself into a quite dandy super hero. Not to be out done, I have decided that I too can become one of the finest ever to roam the planet dishing out justice and generally saving anyone that happens along and falls into some form of peril.

And here I am. The one and the only The Great Royal Barbarian. I didn’t pick the name, he must have chosen that himself. Erm, that’d be my alter-ego.

So, anyone wanting to make their own super hero had better follow this link to The Hero Factory.

Ruyter or Rötger

2009-06-23T12:51:00.000+01:00

In 1667 Ferdinand Bol painted the portrait of Michiel de Ruyter. It looks like this.

Sometime later, on 3rd March 2009, I took the following photo of Rötger, one of the Germans that I work with.

Rötger has taken a cut out of the painting and pasted it onto his pass. It’s a good enough likeness that he gats away with it on a daily basis. We like that.

Do the clicky thing if you want to see how good the likeness is in more detail.

And yet there is more…

2009-06-22T22:31:00.000+01:00

I spent the weekend with my kids at my sisters house. Whilst there we made some Rocky Road – White Edition. I had some valuable advice from my good friend at Feeding the Lions but I was worried that we had stuffed way too many bits into the choccy, however, the result was actually wonderful. I did have to put it into the freezer for an hour but the result was even better than my Rocky Road – Dark Edition.

This is how we did it…

Chop up the bits…

Mash the biscuits

…

Melt the gook…

And then put out to cool…

Just because I can and did…

2009-06-22T20:15:00.001+01:00

Well, the results are finally in. It’s a hit. My Rocky Road Dark Edition was great. Actually it still is. Just. There are a few pieces left, but this is mainly because I was away for the weekend and didn’t take it with me. anyway, it’s fab and sticky and chocolaty and gooey and tastes scrummy, though I do say so myself.

Just Because I Can…

2009-06-17T20:35:00.001+01:00

Friends of mine have all be making Rocky Road so, not to be out done, I too have decided to make it. Nothing to do with being able to stuff my face with lots of choccy goodness tomorrow, no, this is to prove that I too can tackle the mastery of complex cooking and win.

This is where the basic recipe came from, this is where I first heard about it and this was the other person to make it before I decided to join in.

It has been placed in the fridge now that it is cooler and tomorrow it will be iced and tested. Just a little bit…

This is how it progressed…

Tomorrow the photos of the finished article…

The House That Munt Built

2009-06-14T21:19:00.001+01:00

Living in this house has proved an experience. The last time that I lived in a place like this I was a student over 20 years ago. I live in a rented room for a year in 2006/7 but it was a well managed building and whilst the clothes drying facilities left a little to be desired and I could meet all sorts of people walking from my room to the toilet/shower (in various states of attire) the rest of it was perfectly acceptable. But this house has had all sorts of surprises.

But having been here for six months now we have finally got to the bottom of most of the problems. It seems that the owner wasn’t really very interested in letting the building but a couple of guys were very keen to rent it from him and then rent the individual rooms out to us. We shall call these middle men, for want of a better phase, Dumb and Dumber. Now Dumb thought that he could spend a little money making a few minor improvements to the place and Dumber would do all the leg work collecting the rents. Obviously they would have to lay out a little cash in the first place but they were bound to rake it in again once they had tenants. They would charge each tenant a commission of 1 month, a 1 month deposit and then a monthly rent. The commission they would keep since they had no deal with the owner regarding that and the monthly rent they would split with the own on a percentage basis. Excellent plan.

So they put in a basic kitchen, 5 basic showers and laminate on all the floors. They also put in a partition wall in one of the larger rooms. Must have cost them ten thousand Euros or so I guess. They quickly filled all the rooms, probably making four thousand Euros back with the commission straight away, leaving only six thousand to recoup from the monthly rentals.

But you see, it appears that they weren’t too smart with their negotiations on the monthly rents. The deal that they negotiated with the owner was, you’ll like this, one hundred per cent to the owner and the rest for themselves. And this is why our requests for a doorbell, a security light and for them to fix the dryer went unheeded.

But since we complained to the owner so much he has kicked out Dumb and Dumber and has promised to do all our requests himself. Since he is getting about five thousand Euros a month in income from one building, he has obviously decided that this is worthy of a little more of his attention. We are getting new contracts and workmen have already been round to make estimates for the work. We have a doorbell and a security light. I’m going to get soundproofing between me and the next room (which, luckily is currently vacant) and there will be new showers installed and a new kitchen.

So even though the washing machine broke recently things are, on average, on the up. We have a new tenant downstairs that I met today and workmen have started appearing and doing things. The central heating is still very suspect and we await a new washing machine, but in general the rest is ok.

Fingers crossed.

All I have to do now is ask the council to work normal hours and not the current 6:30am to half past midnight. I’m a little less worried about having to stay an extra three months now.