Saturday, July 6, 2013

Goodbye, hello ...

In just two days we are signing the sale on this place (and, incidentally, packing two huge vans on the same day) before driving down to Moux on the Tuesday to unpack and then sign the purchase (yes, in that order: doesn't seem to worry Celine and Jim that much ... they obviously don't know us very well). At least we have the bank loan (not really necessary, but nice to have), and even an account number so that the notaire can dump vast sums of money into it, hopefully before we empty it all out again.

This afternoon I have two entire rooms to take to the tip, and at some time I need to snag and bag my office, box the wine in the cellar, and shrink-wrap the kitchen. I also have to go up to the office at some point, as the server has gone catatonic.

So until all these things have been done and we are installed in the new Shamblings (same as the old Shamblings, but a bit bigger, and somewhere else, and a different colour, and not at all the same really) there will be a hiatus.

Normal service - or what counts for that around here - will be resumed as soon as possible. Just don't hold your breath, blue is not a natural colour for people.

Bonus update, free gratis and for nothing, that's how much I love you people: I wandered down at 14:00 in the baking 30°+ heat to bring Jacques' Dacia up to the house to be loaded with crap, only to discover that it was making a strange clunky noise ... this happens when the front right tyre is dead flat.

Of course to extract the spare tyre you must more or less lie on your back on the tarmac (no shirt on, ouch! hot! burny!) and then extract the jack and ... what the hell, I shall spare you the sordid details. Suffice it to say that it was a half hour I had not really counted on.

And so now, having worked hard and sweated like pigs, I rather think we is going to have a light meal out on the terrace of steak and salad before heading down to the lake to see the July 14 fireworks, which are on tonight because here at St Pierre we have, being skinflint peasants, worked out that it is cheaper to buy the things after the correct date and then stick them in someone's cellar until the DLC comes around and they're covered in greenish fuzz, at which point you fire them off at all and sundry.

The colours are wonderful, even if not perhaps what the makers intended, due to the pig dripping, and some have been known to go off at random moments and not necessarily as required, but that just adds to the fun. And let's face it, handless municipal employees will not be skimming any money from the tills, now will they?

Also, for your reading pleasure, In a development whose scientific importance would be difficult to exaggerate, it has been discovered that hawk moths emit powerful ultrasonic pulse beams from their genitals

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