Miss Haversham I presume

On Saturday we moved into our new place. As a cost saving measure, and because it wasn’t that far a journey, and because we don’t have that much stuff, we decided it would be a good idea to just carry our things over. I would not recommend this. While a bag may seem reasonably okay to pick up, when you’re carrying a few, along with a backpack and wheelie case, you get tired pretty quickly. It also didn’t help that Brendan insisted we go the long way round for fear that our ex-‘housemates’ were following us. (I think they were just going out for coffee). Another thing is the embarrassment factor. It’s a ‘good’ area: the houses are gorgeous (all white this time rather than all brown) and all the cars quite flash. Walking down the street: BMW, Mercedes, BMW, BMW, Audi, posh couple, SAAB, new four wheel drive, posh couple with stroller, posh couple with posh dog, BMW …and here we come down the street like refugees.

But now that we are in, it’s great. The place itself is big, very old, but very functional. It’s a flat in a Victorian conversion. The first time Brendan met our landlady (who I presume once had the whole house as her family home) he described her to me as Miss Haversham. This has more to do with her age, the grandness of the house and her love of fake plastic flowers and stuffed toy animals… rather than her being jilted at the altar and never getting over it – she was married for forty years and currently has a ‘lover’ (her word).

We are trading space for mod cons. The place doesn’t have a TV*. When we asked whether there was an aerial point we could plug into, she suggested a set-top aerial, commenting, ‘Some people put aerials on their houses, don’t they, but that’s quite a modern thing’. Okay. The place is quiet – in her words: ‘The only sound you will hear are the bullfrogs in mating season’. But really she seems very nice and since we have moved in we haven’t seen her once and I don’t think you can ask for better than that.

*Currently 6 days without TV and counting – how long will it be before we crack?

between the bridges

i work in between tower bridge (see below) and london bridge (see right) on the south side of the thames. both these photos were taken from inside the office - not a bad view huh?

nor-way do we like you

Things have irrevocably broken down with our ‘housemates’, especially the 37-year-old Norwegian guy. When things blew up (the first time) I said to Brendan, ‘From now on I’m calling him C.F.’ ‘Hmm, that’s a bit strong coming from you’, Brendan replied, a bit surprised. ‘Why? I think Control Freak is entirely appropriate,’ I said. ‘Oh, I thought you meant the other C.F.’ But you know what – they are both entirely appropriate!

You never know with strangers. People may seem normal but then choose to send you emailed lists of demands ending with… and if this is not agreed to you’ll have to move out. You would think that he owned the place himself. You would think that we aren’t good to live with (but let me tell you – we are!) I don’t know how much I can go into here but if anyone wants the sordid details (including the list of Red Flags That Should Not Have Been Ignored), please let me know.

The good news is we have found another place. Its near where we are but actually in a better part of town (a very good part of town if I may say). The place itself is as old as the hills but its ours... ours I tell ya - ALL ours!!! no more sharing - wooo hooo!

should we talk about the weather?

the weather is a hot topic of conversation around here. we've had some beautiful summer days where everyone seems to congregate in the parks. people sunbake in their bathing suits (although they're nowhere near water which is pretty wierd to see). weather forecasters refer to the temperature reaching 'scorching highs of 28 degrees' and on the tube on days above 25 degrees there are announcements advising people to keep well hydrated. today's newspapers have reported that london's weather on average has increased by 2 degrees over the past 20 years - ahh the benefits of global warming.