Retail inlet

My mad impulsive internet purchases keep arriving.  They are all very large.  I am having difficulty hiding them from Mr Smith.  I got a huge table because it was cheap on eBay and put it together .... upside down.  It has a large gouge out of one corner which it will now have forever. I am so cross.  I am awaiting delivery of an ugly chair that in a hip moment I thought was retro. The new washing machine looks a bit rubbish.  I can't plumb it in or do the electrics.  It will sit in the middle of the kitchen until all our clothes smell or I get the Apprentice back from France.  Mr Smith loves laundry.  I will find a laundrette for my clothes and enjoy having a kitchen island.

The next things to be delivered are a big hairbrush, a ham stand and some linen that I don't really want and some mad snazzy square pillowcases in no known size.  And Mr Smith, back from golf.

France Vacance

Monsieur Et Madam Smith are going to Pareee to veezeet ze sights.  So exciting.  Can't remember when but sometime next month to take our minds off this mad house buying business.  Then when we get back it can start all over again.

Mrs Smith's top things to do in Paris

1.  Buy a guide...... Then we'll work it out from there.

Vision of loveliness

Mr Smith is still in France golfing.  It is raining here so it probably is there too (teehee).  The sheets are on the line .. Groan.  This housework thing doesn't suit me at all.  I wanted to decontaminate the place for his return.  Can't think why as he never notices.

Yesterday I was Princess Perfect.  I cleaned and preened, took myself to the hairdressers, walked, swam, finished the crossword and detoxed myself.  I then decided to have a night away.  I packed up a few things and set off ... to the spare room.  It is lovely in there and I slept like a bit of dead tree.  I had great ideas for my sitting room at new house.  I will use the lovely pale blue and pink kelim from the spare room with a big pale blue sofa, pink and beige cushions and lots of arty books.  Curtains to be decided.  Mmmm need measurements.  Need house.

And now my last day of freedom before my master returns.  I will tumble dry things and do messy sewing.

Stuff

I am supposed to be looking for a house for the boys as we got outbid on the previous one.  Why should I?  I am not well, my chest hurts and I do not want to look at hovels without them.  Because if I don't they will come to live with us in Kent.  The whole point of moving is to get shot of them.  Ok then Right Move it is.

Found beautiful sofas in Putney.  I just need a house then I can buy lovely things to put in it.  In the meantime Mr Smith is very keen on me having his brother's old stuff. Ok I will consider the dining table but not his sofa.  I want my own.  Call me picky.  I don't want any of his mother's horrible brown furniture either.  Just so you know.  I'm a House & Garden girl. Actually, can't afford anything in H&G ... at all.  Perhaps I will look in Argos catalogue.

I think it's time for some Internet purchases.  That cheers me up considerably.

Hack hack

Mr Smith went away to the sea without me where he had a very blustery time.  I stayed behind and tried to figure out some very complicated instructions for a patchwork quilt.  V tricky.  I also developed my cough into something truly irritating.  It hurts.

Walked a hundred miles today as was trying to show off to WLR friend.  Now I ache and the cough hacks on; it is just mildly annoying.

I might die.  There again I have a new house to buy, and some parking vouchers to get tomorrow.  So maybe I will postpone my end.  It's just this damned cough.  Either it or Mr Smith might kill me; I do hope not.

Health check

I got so cold at the Opera and I had a funny turn in the second half when Ithought I might faint.  I didn't but I felt very sick.  I got better on the way home but I was amazed I managed to survive to the end.  Anyway, I now have a cold coming with a bit fat chesty thing making me feel ill.  Mr Smith is cleaning his gun.  They shoot horses, he says.

I took the boys to look at the house in Crystal Palace that I thought might be suitable.  Eventually after much tapping of things in a silly way they decided it would do, price permitting.

We have a surveyor coming to survey every inch of our cracked and leaking hovel.  I suppose as long as he doesn't write "Do not buy this property under any circumstances" it will be ok.  I am very worried about the little damp patch and that bit in the kitchen and the non working pump in the top bathroom and the shower door that is falling off and two disgusting boys lolling about with hangovers.  I remember the survey carried out on the very first house I lived in as a child.  My mother was very anxious and I was ill in bed with something like measles.  I remember the man tapping the wall above my bed and thinking he can't be serious.  That didn't seem much of a survey to me.

In the meantime the survey has been carried out on our house to be.  Riddled with worm, beetle and dry rot?  Apparently not.  Oh good.  It's old and looks as though it might.

Now, off to die.  I do not feel very well at all.

Sticky opera

Our house is to be surveyed on Friday.  How terrifying.  I suppose I had better clean it up.

Off to the opera today somewhere miles away in the depths of Hampshire. I hate opera but momentarily forgot and agreed to accompany Sensible Alison as her husband has gone to Iceland.  We are having dins in the interval.  It is so cold I hope it is a warming stew or something.  I am trying to stay off the booze so I hope bottles of wine have not been preordered or I will snore through the second half.

I am trying to fabricate a birthday cake for the Apprentice who will be 27 on Friday.  A very chocolatey kitchen and many crumbs is the story so far.  I will manage it somehow.  Off to the cake dec shop - found a new one.  Well, as long as I manage to scrape it all off before opera hour all will be well.

What a mess

Yesterday I made a wonderful crocheted circular rug.  Mr Smith says it looks like a squashed Mexican.  It does a bit.

It is cold.  It is June.  Ergo no heating and anyway we just had a bill ....arghhhhhhh!   I have donned a jersey and am wearing a knitted boa that I just finished.  Is there no end to my talents?  The boa is quite the thing which makes up for the awfulness of the rug.

I am SO excited by the thought of going to live in the country.  I will make rugs by the shed load.  I might even get quite good at it after a while.

I have just arranged a fun day out on Wednesday in Chichester with Designer Susan.  Then down to the Witterings to deliver terrible rugs followed by Portsmouth to collect the Apprentice (older son).  Tomorrow I am going to the Opera with Sensible Alison.  lalalalala

And now to make a house birthday cake for the Apprentice.  The top got a bit burnt and rose up with a big crack in it, then it fell apart when I tried to make it house shaped.  I will persist. I need more kit and a great deal of chocolate icing and eighty five thousand smarties.  He is 27.

Shopping with your mother

I took my youngest, the Best Boy, to the seaside as he was between films so could be dragged kicking and screaming down to Kent for some sea air.  He stayed in and watched telly.  Well, he did walk a tiny bit and he came to Dungeness with me for a spooky nuclear drink at the pub followed by fish dinner.

This morning I took him shopping at the wondrous Ashford Retail Outlet.  I somehow ended up buying him a load of boring shirts and pants and a top ...

"Well, what do you say to your generous mum?"
"I need a shirt".
I hate him.  Well, no I don't.  I love the little poo but I so wish he could be a little less oafish.  He just wishes I would curl up and die.  This is despite the fact that I am buying him and his brother a house.

I really need those boys out of my life for a bit.

Finished

A day of accomplishment.  I finished Donna's horrible hula hoop weaving and my very odd knitted boa which is rather lovely in its own way.  So two projects out of the way.

My big boy, the Apprentice, is coming home next week.  He is in France working on a maison.

We have a completion date on the sale of this house at the end of August.  Yippeee.  Oh no, we will be away.  Oh well, I will sort something out.  Somehow it will be easier without Mr Smith and his clipboard.  

Property matters

Found the boys a sound proofed smell proofed house in Crystal Palace.  Well it isn't actually sound proofed but it is far enough away for me to not hear or smell them.  "It doesn't have a swimming pool."  No you are right it doesn't.  It is perfect so shut up and enjoy.

Our offer has been accepted on the lovely beautiful exquisite and very large Mulberry House.  We have managed to squeeze the fridge and cooker out of them too.  Clever us.

And now folks we have five properties to worry about if you count Worthing which is due to exchange this week and the seaside flat we have to let.

I have a dream

I thought I was doing well at offloading the horrible offspring. I was going to find them a house to share in somewhere like Crystal Palace.  In fact I am house hunting today.  I woud rather be sitting in my garden reading House and Garden, House Beautiful and Elle Decoration (new house you know) but being a dutiful mother I have arranged for viewings in a road where neither I nor my car feel particularly comfortable.

I spoke to the Apprentice, my older son who is currently in France performing apprentice electrical skills, and he tells me of his life vision.  He wants to do up houses and sell them on with a quick turn around.  He does not want to look after his brother.  Well I understand that.  He does not want to have all his money tied up in one property.  He really still wants to bum off his parents.  So after all my efforts it looks as though they will be living either with us or in our flat for ever after.  Groan. They won't want to live in Kent so it won't last long.

My dream life doesn't involve them.

Dungeons and dragons

Now I am starting to panic ... Fiercely.  Mr Smith put in an offer for our dream house and it was rejected.  Not enough money not because we smell.  And now the agent is out so we can't up our offer.
Oh dear oh dear.  If someone else buys it I will be undone.  Actually, what a relief.  Who wants a nine bedroom house in shit town anyway?  Far too big.

Mr Smith has gone to do battle with the meaniepants company he used to work for in order to get the money they owe him.  They are so stupid.  It is now 18 months or more since he left and they owe him a shedload of dosh that they just haven't bothered to pay.  Legal action time. I sent him off with polished armour and a look of invincibility about him.  Slay them Smithy.

And now I thought I would paint a lovely balloony picture but it ain't easy when you are all nervous and worried.  I will have a nice cup of tea and some heroin.  Ok maybe hold the heroin.  I will have some chocolate.

Dancing tonight.  Jingle jangle.

A place by any other name

Yes, I was right - lovely house is lovely and we are going to buy it and live happily ever after.

Had a ghastly journey back to London as M26 was closed and M25 was a lorry park so I M20ed all the way through Lewisham.  Vile.  Very short tempered ever since.

The dear Best Boy is reluctantly looking at affordable property on line.  He prefers the £800,000 house he found.  Ahem, I really had something along the lines of a £300,000 in grotty condition house in mind.  We differ.  I call Tooting lots of different names such as Lower Wandsworth, Outer Wimbledon, Earlsfield, Mitcham .... but not Tooting.  He still refuses to look at them.  He's so snooty.  In my day affordable meant anything south of the river or north of the park.  Now you are lucky if you can find anything with a London postcode for under a grillion.  Oh well, sorry dearest son you will not be living in Belgravia.  Anyway, your brother will sort you out when he returns from foreign parts.

Phrase of the day: Abstract vegetables.  I might write a book called Abstract Vegetables.

Five a day

Things that have gone wrong today ... And it's not yet 8am.
1. I have failed to go swimming - all that effort and wet hair etc. just can't face it. And I've got hairy underarms but need new razors.
2. I have finished my rag rug but it's circular.  Any other shape would be more useful - well maybe not star.
3. Turkish Delight R Us have failed to show up with their shipment.  I am getting desperate.
4.  Maybe my headache is from a gum infection.  I am doing studious between the teeth cleanings hoping for a miracle as I spit in 5 different shades of red.
5. My feet smell.

That's enough awful things for now.

I am going to meet Mr Smith after his golfing du jour at our favourite house in Kent with a view to buying it.  So exciting ... The house, not Mr Smith.  The dog looks excited; he is packing up all his belongings.  I have explained it takes 12 weeks to buy a house so he can go slowly.  We have yet to make an offer.  I have arranged to see another house just so we can see a comparison and be all grown up and not put in an offer too hastily.  I have forgotten which one, where it is and what time.  Mr Smith will be cross.