Getting there

Wow, Jan has done a great job and the house (in Ripon) is nearly ready to move into. When we finally move from France, because we will have the two dogs with us, we have to be able to move right in and now we can. That's one more little hurdle jumped. The biggest problem is the size of the new house. It's much smaller than the monster that we're used to and that will take some adapting to. There's no getting away from the fact that you get a lot more home for your money in France.
The other little hurdle was getting the house connected to broadband. As opposed to France, where everything has to be done in writing, in triplicate, I ordered the service on-line and we were connected yesterday. I was kept informed all the way by email and everything worked to plan with no hiccups. The good folks of England need to stop complaining and realise how good things are here. Mind you, I suppose it was the complaining that got it this way. Interesting.
Competition also plays a huge part, something that I feel is sadly lacking in France. People pay way over the odds for all kinds of things in France, including food, but more about that later.


Writing about a chicken jalfrezi the other day gave me a yearning and last night I had the yearning fulfilled. But - back to the curry. There are three curry houses in Ripon which will all need checking out. The Balti House, 16 Kirkgate, Ripon, is a dry restaurant which means you can take your own booze, which we did. Instead of paying £15 for a bottle of wine we headed to Booths and bought a decent bottle for £4. Excellent.
The other nice surprise was the bill. We both stuffed ourselves for the grand sum of £25. Double excellent.
One thing that has become apparent, after several trips to Ripon, is the size and price of foodstuffs. Take for instance a baguette sized beef sandwich from Booths, the meat cut freshly from the joint and loads of it stuffed into the bread all for the princely sum of £2.95. It is so big, so full of meat that we have to share one. Triple excellent.

It's hard being lazy and perfect

Jan and I are somewhat different. I think she's very admirable because as a general rule she just gets on with things whilst I take my time and think about the issues and try to figure out the smartest way to do something. I hate double handling something, I've always been like that and I suspect that Jan has as well.


The net result of our behaviour is that Jan gets things done quickly and I take my time. If she was being cruel she might also say that I don't do anything whilst she slaves away. She would probably say that I over think things.


With all this in mind  there are a mountain of boxes to unpack and, in order to get on quickly, without too much thought delay, I'm sent out on inconsequential little errands. I don't really mind, I understand. She manages to plough on regardless and  gets things done and I'm half useful as well. From her point of view at least I'm out of the way.


Anyway, I get back back from my little errand yesterday and notice some of the stuff that she's put into the airing cupboard, but it wasn't until this morning that, in a very delayed blinding flash, it dawned on me. In her admirable haste to put things away, the first items in this cupboard were some old blankets. One of which looked like it had been used to keep soldiers warm in the trenches of the 1914 - 1918 war.


Now you can call me pedantic but I'm definitely not stupid. I stopped to consider the last time that we'd ever used a blanket, never mind a very old soldier's blanket, and it didn't take me long to figure out that not only had we (as a couple) never used a blanket before but that we were never likely to use or need one.


The other thought that I had was how much more rubbish lurks in this mountain of boxes stuffed around the house. Look, I know that I over think things, but we had just paid someone a lot of money to collect, store and deliver it from France. There were nine huge crates of the stuff (with more on the way.) 


My next very difficult thought was how to deliver this message to my beloved without starting a blazing row. This will take some skill but I'd better think about it first! I might mention it tomorrow.

Breaking and entering

We had a really good laugh today.


I'd invited a chap 'S', who does some work for mum, to take a look at the Ripon house because I want a door knocking through between the house and the garage. I suspect that we'll need access to the garage from time to time when we want to keep the dogs under control and occasionally they will need to sleep there.


Separately, I'd also done something to the garage door lock and couldn't lock it, and because we'd put some stuff in the garage it needed securing. I asked him to look at the garage door lock as well. S took the door handle and lock to bits and fixed it. After that he put the handle back together again and he came outside the garage. I closed the door, and we tried to open it. Nothing. It wouldn't open. He hadn't put it back together correctly and we were stuck outside with no means of getting in. We looked at each other baffled. (Nothing new there then - Ed)


'You know that door you want putting into the garage from inside the house,' he said, 'I think I'd better start right now.' With that he started to knock a hole from inside the house into the garage, big enough for him to clamber through so that he could open the garage door from the inside.


It was the highpoint of an otherwise snowy, cold and tiring day. Very funny.