I am very conscious that there are about ten people to whom I owe the courtesy of an email and, more importantly, follow-up action. I haven't forgotten about you, but I hope you understand that there are various other things taking precedent just now. Hopefully, I will have cleared that email backlog by the end of next weekend.
I think I have completed on my remortgaging. I signed papers on Tuesday evening, in the hope of money transfer hitting my account by the end of Thursday, although realistically, with Friday and Monday being Bank holidays in England, more likely Tuesday. I jolly well hope it is in there tomorrow, because they have earmarked (almost certainly erroneously) the first monthly payment for tomorrow, which means that those funds have been unavailable over the weekend. Sigh
Naturally, when one remortgages, especially in the light of a new loan (!) one has to spend spend spend. We have been planning spending since before Christmas, but, other than splurges in M&S and Bravissimo just before we went away, and my share of the holiday expenses, there hasn't been much.
Yesterday, more or less fully recovered from our journey home and, in the case of Jimmy, subsequent illness, we ventured out into the world. Only as far as Streatham Common, but that is a gorgeous place in which to enjoy the Spring sunshine, especially with the Rookery. And naturally, I took loads of photos because I have devoted so much time to edting those from Egypt.
After a stroll down the Common we repasted in the Pied Bull. People watching was fun, especially wondering why a 45-year-old vaguely posh woman, lunching with the YummyMummy Brigade felt it necessary to use the rhetorical nuances and inflections of Catherine Tate's Lauren the Schoolgirl.
It was very pleasant in the beer garden until a couple arrived with the intention of ignoring their loud shrill toddler as it screamed in my ear, disturbing my conversation and train of thought. Why is it that people do that - breed sprogs and then ignore them? I can't fathom it out. Must be very annoying for the other parents-of-small-children who are sitting there engaging with their quiet well-behaved offspring. So we left.
On the bus back we spotted that Beaumont Beds were having a 'Closing Down' Sale (actually, a closing for refurbishment before re-opening sale, as we later discovered). Which was good, because on Saturday we had been perusing the websites of the usual suspects for prices and styles. And today we splurged on a new main bed, a new mattress for the spare room, plus chest-of-drawers and bedside cabinet. We raced up to Brixton for a comparison with Morley's - where we bought bedding, towels and a blind - and returned to Streatham to spend an amount that made my eyes water (well, we paid a deposit, that's the best way to do things).
So lif eisn't going to get less busy. Jimmy insists that the process of clearing out the old bed and bringing in the new must be accompanied by a thorough tidy, vacuum and dust. Grghhh. He's getting dangerous. Currently not working, and not drinking very much he's full of energy. I said that things are going to be quite different. I have been used to him disappearing to bed at 8pm or earlier leaving the evening free for me to blog and watch my choice of TV. I can see us coming to blows over the TV. Although, actually, there is a second set lying idle in the spare bedroom, and the CD player in the main bedroom is actually a DVD player. And I understand it's possible to have Sky set up in a second room. I can see us finding a whole knew subject to argue about - spending time together. Oh joy...
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