Periods of heavy drizzle
We are nearly out of wood and the holidays are two weeks away. The idea was that we would get back from holiday and not need any more wood because it will be May, and in the way of May, would be lovely and warm. OH has taken to looking at the old beams in the barn and we may have a reprise of Angela’s Ashes over the next few days. Wet weather continues. Last May was cold and wet. The weather has definitely gone downhill over the 11 years we have been out in Europe but has still a way to go to be as bad as it was where we lived in the UK.
I go and see the doctor and show him my itchy elbow and neck and alas, he says it is psoriasis and is often caused by stress. I have been stressed by sitting in his waiting room for over an hour whilst the previous patient waffled on about nothing in particular and left, looking in the best of health. He suggests I take up a calming activity such as yoga or meditation. I say I don’t feel that stressed and he says my body is feeling it and showing it. I also show him the strange mole type thing on my chest and he says I will have to go and see a dermatologist and, no, he doesn’t think it is a skin cancer. My mammogram form arrives in the post. Infamy, infamy; they’ve all got it in for me…. I google psoriasis and there are some truly revolting pictures.
On the work front, I go back and take on market the beautiful domaine and holiday home property south towards the mountains. A return of investment of 10% is possible but the buyer will need to have deep pockets to purchase it. I take the dog with me and we have a stagger around a muddy field. The options for running off are limited because there is a whopping, pounding river at the end of the field, and barbed wire all around. Alas, the coffee shop in the next village is closed so I go back home, have quick lunch and then down to the rental units with OH.
OH has been working in the rental unit now since the beginning of the year and it is still a long way from being finished. I arrive and do some cleaning and then look at what is meant to be going where in the kitchen area. Basically, there is not enough room to fit in a washing machine and it is going to have to go in the newly created cupboard (now complete with new, narrow door). We do some measuring and the only other alternative is to move the sink, which is currently fixed to the wall, and with huge holes in the back where OH has made access to the pipes for the washing machine. I ask why the washing machine pipes are behind the sink and am told I know nothing, and I have never plumbed in a washing machine. I should have kept a closer eye on this project. It will never be finished before we go away. I wanted to put it on market for Easter. When, and if, we go back to the UK, I am paying registered artisans to do the work in the house, even if I have to work full time to fund it.
The seller of the town house which is the subject of much wrangling by the two buyers rings me with some news. Her advocate says she must sign with the other agency or she will be in trouble. My would be buyers send me a letter they have received from their advocate, saying because my buyers are cash and the other ones aren’t, then the sellers have a legitimate reason to withdraw from their engagement with the other buyers. Her advocate has asked to see the copy of the reservation contract signed by the other buyers, with the other agency.
A sale that is still lingering from last year has suddenly acquired some life. The new owner has applied for change of use and the notice has to be posted in the window of the house for 2 months, during which time the Mayor or a bailiff must pass and see that it is correctly posted and then locals have the right to object. A problem is that the owner’s father, who is an alcoholic and either in the bars or asleep, is alone at the house and I cannot rely on him to put up the notice. The owner’s mother is with her adult children in Oz and the owner lives in China. Great. I will have to enlist the aide of a local lady who is friends with the family.