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May 25, 2005

NEW NEEEIGH-BOURS

They say that moving house is one of the most stressful things you do in your lifetime - viewings, making offers, selling, gazumping, chains, removals companies, exchanging contracts, unpacking, insurance claims and the like. Fortunately I have not had to do that, but I did move from my rented accommodation down on the farm to a flat above a shop last weekend. Clearly the stress levels were not going to be as high with this exercise, but I can guarantee that it was much MUCH more bizarre.

Bizarre event number ONE
The post arrived at the usual time of 8am containing the usual batch of CDs and junk mail but there was one from my bank. Curious, I opened it, expecting to be offered ANOTHER credit card or to be told that my overdraft had been extended. But no. There, in the envelope was a letter telling me that they had overcharged interest on my account and would be crediting me with £136. A smile covered my face. This was going to be a good day.

Bizarre event number TWO
Alex and I were due to be at the letting agents' office at 9.30am to sign the tenancy agreement for the new property. We bundled into the car at five past nine in preparation for a twenty minute journey and set off down the driveway but we SO did not expect to see what we saw. As we rounded the corner, there, in the middle of the lane was a horse. A horse. On its own, blocking the lane. 'Oh' was about all I could muster as the surprise dawned on me. Somehow the horse had jumped over one fence in an attempt to get across to the field on the other side of the lane but got stuck when it realised the other fence was too high.

So we crept towards it on foot, at which point it put its head down, whinnied and began to trot towards us. Rapidly we quick-marched back to the car for protection and I started the engine to scare it off. That worked, the horse didn't come near the car, but was still blocking the lane. We got out once more a few minutes later and edged towards the fence that the horse had jumped. The other horse in that field then charged at us so we gave up and made a few phone calls. Half an hour later we were on our way to the letting agents' with the most elaborate, unusual and yet honest excuse for being late.

Bizarre event number THREE
We'd just finished looking around the flat, signed all the paperwork, agreed the inventory and seen off the agent. We were in, it was official. We planned the rough design furniture-wise, then decided to head out to get a bite to eat before picking up the van we had organised.

Four years ago, I began a nine month stint working for my uncle's plant hire company - hiring out diggers and dumper trucks to tradesmen and builders. It's not a massive company - around 25 machines, two grab-lorries and three or four curtain-siders and it is very much a local company.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I walk out of my new front door and there, in the middle of the road, fifty miles from its depot, is one of the two grab-lorries from my uncle's company. Bizarre.

Bizarre event number FOUR
We were in the van, the radio was blaring and we were almost back at the farm to start loading. We were excited, with the contract now signed and the sun coming out, the music loud and the windows down, we were very much looking forward to settling into our new home. The new Oasis song 'Lyla' came on the radio and, as with every Oasis song, is both instantly recognisable and easy to sing along to. So there we were, both working our vocal chords as we neared the farm once more. 'Heeeeeeeey, Lyla' we went, in true Liam Gallagher impressionist style, 'heeeeeeey lyl... there's a bee on my shoulder' and sure enough there was a bee resting on my shoulder as I drove the van through the countryside, weaving across the road as I tried to encourage the insect back out through the window. I had to stop before I caused an accident, but the bee refused to budge. Eventually I got the bugger off, but it didn't fly away, it just fell to the ground and I wonder if it avoided the van's rear wheels...?

Bizarre event number FIVE
Living on a farm has its good points and its bad points. One major good point is that there is a lot of space and it is quiet. A bad point is that all manner of insects, rodents and arachnids find their way into the house. I can cope with regularly hoovering up the spiders on the walls and even the appearance of two mice in my pile of washing last summer was a bearable experience. As we were packing the shoes by the back door, by the fridge and next to the bin, we saw a slug. But this was no ordinary slug, it wasn't that dark grey garden slug that eats all your plants, no. This was a YELLOW slug. Whether it was the product of toxic waste or the aftermath of a nuclear meltdown, this slug was not normal but I did take great pride in scooping it up with a hardback envelope, taking it out into the garden and batting it as hard as I could over the fence towards the neighour's house.

It took three eighteen hour days, buckets of sweat and invaluable cleaning contributions from the bird and Alex's mum but we are finally rid of the damp isolation of the farm. Look out London.

Posted by jonola14 at May 25, 2005 2:32 PM