a series of mid life crices

We were supposed to exchange contracts on the house today but in our inimitable style, after making third time lucky and thing two sign a contract agreeing to leave the property, (child one having gone already) we forgot to sign it ourselves, and, because it is a  bank holiday on Friday  we can’t move for another week. Our solicitor already thought we were totally irresponsible and now he has absolute proof.  Still it gives us few more days to organise ourselves.

In the meantime I have become an expert in vacuum packing things, clothes, blankets, cushions, flamenco dresses and I haven’t seen the cat for a few days…

On a more positive note I booked off next week for moving and now its not happening so I’ll have time to get my legs waxed.

Third time lucky child went to work this morning, his first job for ages.  We were planning a standing salute to wave him off but owing to the change in the hour at the weekend we were still fast asleep when he left at 6.20 am.   I must explain that at 21 we know he should be working but as the third child we had lost interest in nagging and anyway he sits unobtrusively on his computer all day so we forgot he wasn’t earning a living until we decided to move.

Child one and thing two already have jobs so all we have to do is empty their bedrooms while they’re at work, I’m sure they’ve noticed the sold sign and skip outside the house.

I must remember to get the dog a passport.

You know those days when you wake up and it’s that kind of grey miserable weather so very traditional in England?  You have to get up go to work again and you wish that you could be somewhere else, doing something different?  You spend evenings talking over that last bottle of whatever you didn’t use cooking and decide to sell up and go away forever, to somewhere the sun shines and the sky is blue?  Where nobody wants anything from you, where the food grows in the ground or you buy it in a market, where you don’t have commute, where the daily grind is the walk to the beach or catching your own fish for supper?

Well we are going to do it.  We are selling our house, selling a business, handing in our notice kicking out our kids, taking the dog and going.