I'd forgotten how much cleaning can take it out of you. I'm sure I only started at around midday, but it's 16.20 now and I'm EXHAUSTED. I'm taking a tea break and then will prowl round the flat thinking 'WHAT MUST STILL BE DONE?" I slightly resent my need to leave it in pristine condition when the only people who'll benefit from it are the Evil Letting Agents, and there's a certain temptation to just leave it as it is, but I'm genetically very house-proud, being descended from several generations of terrifying Anglo-Irish Scouse women. Hence spending 2 days solid cleaning a house that's smaller than my entire bedroom at home, so as not to shame the family, and also out of a kind of passive-aggressive spite against said Letting Agents.
Anyway, I took a bit of a break yesterday afternoon and went for a walk:

15148_10100368173045672_1016049024_n
The fog barely lifted all day. Very atmospheric etc. It was the first (and last) weekday I'd spent in my village.
My dad's arriving tomorrow to take most of my stuff away. I'm freaking out about whether it'll all fit in the car and what'll happen if I have to leave stuff behind. I've been going outside to look at the size of cars and whether they look big enough to store all the stuff I've somehow accumulated, but the problem with cars is that the size of them varies. Then on Monday after work, I'm going back to the hopefully empty flat in order to furnish Evil Letting Agents with the keys to the shack, and shall then proceed to the house of DeskFriendTwoDots in Windsor, in which I will bide till NEXT Saturday, which is the official 'train to Alnwick' day. This time next week, I'll already be there! Eek scary.
So next week, during my very last week as a project manager, I'm also going to try and arrange flat/house viewings in Alnwick. I've got a bit of a dilemma because I've seen the most AMAZING house that I really love, but which has a number of disadvantages, namely that it's quite remote, and that it's not furnished. On the other hand I've seen 3 or 4 that are nice, furnished and central, but which I'm less enthusiastic about. But it's not such a bad quandary to have- I expect that whatever I end up with, it'll be better than this shack. I've emailed one letting agent to arrange viewings but they've not got back to me yet.
Finally, have a meme:

gave me 10 things to talk about beginning with the letter T:

Tapir: at work I have a small stuffed tapir called Blodwen (Blodders if we're being less reverent), because I'm the office nutjob in many ways, and because it's socially acceptable to have a stuffed tapir because they're quite cute, but having a stuffed woodlouse is one step too far.

Tea: I could do with a cuppa now. I like tea with milk and one sugar and prefer Yorkshire Tea (to the frustration of my brother, who insists Lancashire tea is better, even though it's not).

Tin whistle: allow me this opportunity to plug my other blog, dedicated entirely to my whistlings. I've played since I was about 15, after a realisation that I much preferred Irish folk to classical music (or any other kind of music, as it happens). There's not much skill involved, just repetition, but I like it.

Time: I'm obsessive about being on time and have a morbid fear of running out of time to do stuff. My dad thinks it is amusing to leave any plans involving me till the last minute in order to cause me distress. Arghrghrgh time.

Tag: I loved playing tag as a child but never quite got over the linguistic change I had to make from 'tig', as it was at my school in Bicester, to 'tag' as it was at my school in Malvern. I say tag now because it's more usual, I think, but it's still tig in my mind.

Towns: I think towns are better to live in than villages or cities. I've lived in all three now, and I think the combination of good transport links and people not looking at you funny if they don't recognise you, and not feeling like an anonymous brick in t'wall, is the best way to live.

Tagalog: I once got really annoyed with a Daily Mail article implying that Tagalog was some kind of obscure language*, when in actual fact it's spoken by over 20 million people. It remains the only Daily Mail article I've ever commented on (I can't stop reading it online. Someone help me) and said that their ignorance was to their own detriment, because I'm pompous.
*The context was that they were moaning about having the census in Tagalog, because it was a slow news day, I guess

Twitter: I tweet, having joined Twitter during my merry week in Sweden the summer before last, but I don't think I like it as much as Facebook. I don't like how Twitter's much more open. I once moaned about Ukip and found a load of their supporters had sent me abuse. Which was fine, because I started it, but I just didn't realise that what I said could attract that kind of attention. Hence the need to be careful.

Toilets: the toilet in my shack is a Saniflo, the kind of toilet you get on boats, and currently makes an ungodly, loud noise for about 20 minutes after you flush it. When I get my new place in Alnwick, the main priority will be to find somewhere with a decent plumbing system.

Turnips: I once had a debate with my esteemed friend Siobhan about the difference between turnips and swedes. She maintained that there was no difference, but was mistaken. At least I think that was the argument. It took place in a theology lesson many years ago when we were about 17.

Advertisements