Not too much work!!!! lol

Mortgage

We finally got to the stage where we applied for the mortgage.

After initially agreeing to a 100% mortgage, they then said they would only give 80% which left us €15,000 short. No problem, they would give us a loan to cover this.

Everything went quiet for a week or two then they found a debt in Richs name that needed sorting. It was a debt from our old company and was €2800. We were told to pay €1000 of it then set up a payment plan with Hacienda to pay the rest off monthly.

It took two weeks to get our Accountant to answer our calls and emails requested her to sort this out for us and another week for her to go and sort it.

Finally we sent the bank confirmation of the debt being paid only to be told that they'd changed their minds and they wanted the whole debt paid.

Another week passed, trying to get hold of the accountant.

We got a settlement figure and what do you know? It had gone up by €1000 to clear it.

We got it paid, through the bank,only to be told the Accountant then needs to go to the Hacienda to get a document to prove this. That was last Thursday, its now Tuesday and we still can't get hold of the Accountant to do this.

The bank reckon that once they have this final document that within a week we should sign for the mortgage and the house.

Watch this space .................................. (don't hold your breath though)

August House

Well it was August when we finally went back to the bank about the house. They advised us to submit another offer for the property and they would chase the Town Hall to see if anybody had claimed the land.

Several staff holidays passed and finally at the end of August there was news!!!

The bank had forgotten to submit the documents to the Town hall for the six month wait so we've wasted 6 months waiting time! Grrrrrrr

The bank then told us that they would sell the property with 1700m2 of land for €10,000 less and we could sort the land issue out ourselves at a later date! This is what we'd requested back in April FFS!!!

So now we had to re-submit an offer for €110,00. We had to pay €1000 to register this application but the application had to be paid out of our account and not Daddios so a bit of money changing accounts went on and finally it was submitted.

We waited and waited, 2 weeks I think until we were issued with papers to sign to say they had accepted out offer.

The first retirement weekend

I was so looking forward to the weekend. This retirement lark is a bit of a lonely business, although I am becoming very good at conversing with the Chihuahuas. We can have whole conversations about the nuisance flies and why we shouldn’t raid the biscuit barrel. I think, to spice things up a bit, I may start getting in my car at 8.00am and driving really slowly to piss off the workers who are trying to get to work, as that’s what retired people tend to do, on their way to the supermarket to piss workers off by watching their entire shop go through the checkout before lifting an item to pack, then dividing their shopping into bags for each cupboard and one for the fridge and one for the frozen. Oh I know that’s what they do, from very bitter experience!

In my head, we’d be doing all sorts of exciting things at the weekend, as we’d have missed each other so much during the week, after spending everyday working together for the last 6 years. As it turned out Rich worked Saturday morning, Harry arrived at 8.15am to do some jobs around the house, I did what I do most days of the week, kind of fanny around cleaning then provide lunch for the workers when Rich arrived home at around 1.00.

We did go to the Chinese Bizarre which is a bit like Pound Land only more expensive. It sells all sorts of items for the house and has a huge array of plastic containers which I find totally fascinating even though I’ve examined them many, many times. Rich, once bought an electrical cable there which didn’t work when he got it home. Out of curiosity he cut it open to check the wiring only to discover it didn’t actually have any!!!! So there are things which you avoid buying from there. We went for a Paella pan as Rich wanted to try and cook a Paella. It’s a bit of an alien thing really, Rich cooking, as its always been a strictly pink job in our house! However we entered the Paella dish isle and were confronted with around 20 different sizes of Paella dishes, either in a speckled black or silver. Naturally I was attracted to the silver but I could for see future problems with rust so I sensibly chose black but how on earth are you meant to select the correct size? On this particular occasion we’d invited Mummio and Dadddio over in the evening to sample Richs effort, so we chose a mid size one which was maybe a bit ambitious, as it could have fed the 5000!!! I also bought some little umbrella things that go in drinks. Fuck knows why, as we don’t tend to make cocktails or have visitors but they were just too attractive to leave behind. They are now stuck in a drawer with all the other cocktail ornaments that have never been used. I also came away with 20 serviettes with Owls on them, which for 75 cents were a bargain.

We eventually made it home after doing a breakdown call out and going to buy the ingredients for the paella. Rich managed to prepare the paella with very little' pink help' which was quite amazing as he usually is shouting ‘Where is ………….’ every two seconds!

The Paella was a huge success and we had a wonderful evening with the Olds but Sunday was a real disappointment. Rich spent the entire day in his man cave, watching TV, in his holey, grey  boxer shorts, beside the fan! He only emerged for me to feed him and even then he retreated back into his cave with his food.  I spent the day in my She cave, reading Black Lace books which have turned out to be hard core porn and are very boring after the first sex scene and a little bit scary to be honest.  I’m not totally convinced people really do that kind of shit, in real life. I’ve certainly never, knowingly met any, apart from one couple who actually met on a dodgy website for people who partake in that sort of activity and she crawls around with a whip in her bum (apparently).

 It was just like any other bloody retirement day, apart from Harry didn’t come around. By 6.00 I was totally climbing the walls and had to have a Strongbow to calm me down (didn’t work). I’m not going to be very impressed if every weekend is like this, its not what I had in mind! Busy now trying to find a nice day trip for next weekend.

RETIREMENT

Well I’m on week two of my ‘retirement’ and I’m pleased to report that it is getting easier. After working for 6 years, at the same job, I was kind of looking forward to lounging around doing bugger all. As they say ‘Be careful what you wish for’.The first two days were spent trying to get my house into some sort of order. I hadn’t realised how out of control it actually was.

The Spanish Dingles live in a very small, little bungalow, for us it isn’t so remote but I guess to the average urban dwelling person, it may be described as rural. Its only 5 a minute drive from the main road and five minute drive from there, to the nearest town. Its approached via an old river bed which even when we’ve had the dreaded gotta fria (severe flooding), didn’t really flood, which was a bit disappointing, getting stuck in would have been a good story. The river bed is in quite good shape really with no pot holes or major rocks but the average person still finds this approach a challenge, which we’re quite pleased about as that means we don’t get any unexpected visitors.

The house itself, is like a small box really, we’ve started renovations and have a perfectly functional bathroom, of a good size, which now houses my new washing machine, which is still causing great excitement as it’s the first time I’ve ever had a new one and its performance has to be admired, everything comes out sparkly clean and smelling beautiful. I caught Rich gazing longingly at it, for ten minutes last night, on the pretense that he was ‘just checking’ it was working OK. I should explain that the reason he was checking was because our house doesn’t have mains electric, we rely on a generator which, to be fair has been very reliable but can only be turned on by Rich when he gets in from work, as to turn it on you have to kind of stand on one leg, with one arm in the air, whilst rubbing two wires together, pressing a button and saying a prayer! It’s definitely a blue job!

Our lounge is a very small, long, thin room, which we have tiled and painted but it needs painting again as the light grey paint was a mistake and just makes it look dirty.  It used to be a bedroom. We have a nice log burner in the corner which heats the whole house in the winter and two red leather sofas which we recently acquired, second hand, from knock off Nigel. They are very comfortable and soft and best of all don’t show any dirt, although since retirement  I think I may have caught OCD as they get cleaned at least twice a day. I get quite upset if anybody dares to actually sit on them, although as I write, Princess LuLu Luna Garside is beside me snoring her little head off and dribbling.

The kitchen is a makeshift affair with some very dodgy cupboards, a tiny sink, gas cooker, which you have to stand, holding the knob in, if you want to grill anything and we have a large fridge which of course only works when the generator is on, in the evening.  I’ve sussed the fridge problem though. I put bags of ice in the freezer and anything important, that needs to stay cold, you know, like wine, now lives in the freezer compartment. This works well until the weekend, when the genny is on during the day and you forget the wine is in the freezer and it pops its cork and empties itself,  causing big blocks of wine flavoured ice which mixed in with the odd fish finger crumb, isn’t very nice. The floor is concrete, has a big kind of crack in it which attracts all sorts of nasties and needs to be swept and bleached at least three times a day, as it attracts flies. We have a beautiful old farm house table in the kitchen which we never sit at, as we eat on our laps and don’t ‘do’ visitors very often, but it does fill a space and is quite useful for unloading your shopping onto, before putting it away. Today I’m lucky enough to have the genny on to do some washing, so I’m making full use of the electric situation and have put the bread maker on. I love the smell of fresh bread, although I can’t eat it due to my strict, retirement diet.  The machine doesn’t seem to be working, its making a few grunting noises but very little is actually happening. I knew I should have picked the one up that I spied at the bins yesterday, near my parents house!

We also have a very small bedroom. It has a kind of built in bed which is made of breeze blocks. It’s quite handy for storage but the mattress doesn’t fit, so  it kind of hangs over the edge and you have to do a kind of shuffle to get to the right hand side of the bed, which is quite tricky in the night, when slightly pissed, partially blind and totally un co-ordinated! The mattress is amazing, it’s a hand me down from my parents and is memory foam.  It got slightly damaged one day last year, whilst I was at work. Somebody and I’m not blaming anybody in particular, decided they would teach me a lesson for leaving them alone and broke into the bedroom and you have to be quite strong to prise the door open, jumped on the bed and dug a nice big hole in the mattress. I’ve turned the mattress around so the hole is at the foot end and sleep on the left now.  I share this room with the Chihuahuas, Rich de-camped,  due to Betsy and I snoring too much.

We had a sort of outside entertainment area and as we don’t ‘entertain’, Rich blocked it in and made it into a huge bedroom, recently and promptly moved in. He’s in his element with his huge tv and surround sound but when visiting one night I found it a bit disorientating getting out of bed onto the sloping floor! I nearly fell over. I won’t be doing that again!  I’ve also noticed, when cleaning the room, which I now do everyday, that he’s even wired up his own 12v fridge to keep his beers in!!!! It’s a real man cave.

Outside we have a beautiful bar with built in BBQ/plancha, table and chairs, sofa and a fire pit which looks great and we even used it once. We sit outside most nights, getting bitten by mozzies and during the day I drape my washing over the furniture to dry. I must erect a washing line!

Anyway after gaining control of the house, all I had to really do was keep control and ermmmm read books all day. After day two of this, I was climbing the walls! I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life like this. The house got on my nerves and I saw every single fault with it and believe me there were many. The flies did my head in, crawling all over me, I couldn’t watch tv as no electric, I had a car to go out in but no money and to top it all off Rich was coming home knackered and just wanting to watch TV and not talk to me!!!! I really had to sit down and give myself a good talking to. I had 3 options:

1.       Whinge, moan and whine about the situation, to anybody that was stupid enough to ask me how retirement was going and then be thoroughly miserable.

2.       Become a raging alcoholic.

3.       Get control of my life and make the most of the situation.

Although option 2 was quite tempting,  I decided on option 3. I always planned on getting my weight back down and getting fit and healthy again and have been dieting or should I say changing my lifetime eating habits, for 5 weeks now and have already lost 1 stone 1lb!

 I’ve started taking Ice (big white dog) out for a walk every morning at 8.00am, done 2 mornings now! Lol. I don’t really enjoy any form of exercise but I’m now mucking out the paddocks everyday (Naked farmer is now redundant) and I’m determined to keep up the walks. Its only for an hour and I don’t enjoy getting hot and sweaty but I’ll keep on with it until I can managed to jog it. I have to admit, Ice isn’t so keen. She almost ran and hid from me when I produced the lead this morning, I could easily have joined her!  I can’t manage taking the Chihuahuas out, they are far too unruly!

 The house is obviously in top form and I’m also seeing Harry most afternoons and we have little outings out. We braved the beach last week, not my favourite thing but I did enjoyed it. We were going again today but Harry left the factor 50 at Grandads yesterday and I’m not going out without it. We have a little list of things we’re going to do.

After re-claiming my laptop from work yesterday I’m going to start writing more so watch this space…………………………

Yep, think I’ve got a grip on this ‘retirement’ lark!

BAD DRIVING

You know how much I love telling you all about bad driving? Well last night Rich & I were watching a programme on bad driving and it brought back a memory that I thought I'd share with you, which still makes with laugh and cringe!

About 16 years ago I was living in Ireland, in a sleepy village just outside Dublin and I suppose I was what you'd call a 'Corporate Wife'. Maybe I looked the part but really I was far too young and irresponsible for the role. Any how I was asked by my then partner to pick him and a female colleague up from Dublin airport, after a business trip.

The word female colleague freaked me out to start with, she was bound to be glamorous, slim and also highly intelligent! What the hell could I say to make small talk with such a person? 'Oh Hi, I'm Emma, I stay at home and make cakes & do finger painting all day with my 3 kids who are all under 10'. I could see her eyes glazing over now!

Next dilemma, what the hell do I wear to pick up 2 business people without feeling like a frumpy mummy but also without looking like a complete tart? Eight clothes changes later, I opted for knee length boots, opaque tights, shortish skirt and cream jumper, hair down. Yep, I'd got it, I looked fab.

Now to say I was nervous about driving was a understatement but dosed up on Prozac (that's another story), I got into the brand new Range Rover and off I went. The kids were with a sitter so I actually quite enjoyed the time alone, belting out a few 'Man hating' songs along the way.

It was the first time I'd driven to the airport and I was quite proud that I found the way to the car park. I pulled up to the ticket machine, opened my window and to my horror found there wasn't a machine. I looked around frantically to see if anybody else had the same problem but the other cars were all managing just fine, although none of them were in my lane, which to be honest, I was quite thankful for. I got out the car and noticed the ticket machine, phew! It was a bit high so I had to stand on the Range Rover skirts, on tiptoe, get my ticket and quickly get back in before the barrier went down again but I'd made it!!!

I'd arrived a bit early so I went and got myself a wine as I had no intention of driving home and needed a bit of  calming and dutch courage for meeting the glamorous colleague.

Out they came from arrivals, her looking every bit as glamorous as I imagined! We all traipsed to the ticket machine to pay before getting back to the car. Ticket machines also put the fear of God in me, I always put the ticket in the wrong hole or upside down but after faffing about in my handbag I pulled it out and inserted it. €55 the machine said. That can't be right I thought. I re-inserted it but no, still €55. Luckily there was  help kiosk thing so we went and asked why it was so much. 'How long have you been here?' ' Ermmm about 40 mintes' 'Hmmm, that's odd' replied the kiosk woman. 'Are you driving a bus' she asked. 'Ermmm no not really, although its quite a big car' I replied. She then checked her CCTV and there was me climbing onto my car, in my little skirt, christ it did look little, to get my ticket from the bus lane!!!!

I did try and laugh it off and glamorous colleague (never did find out her name) & ex partner were pissing themselves laughing but I've never felt such a prat! In hind sight 'Corporate wifing' or 'Airport Runs' weren't really my thing.

FRUSTRATION - buying a house in Spain

Well its been another two weeks of waiting for some news on this house and this morning we heard that it would be at least six months until anything is heard.

The bank have to put a notice in the town hall to see if anybody claims the land. If they don't then there will need to be another valuation ( €287) and the process will start again. If people start claiming the land then who knows what will happen????

What I find most annoying is that the bank are trying to sell an illegal house. You would have thought they would have done checks on the houses on their books and not wasted their customers money getting surveys done and paying a mortgage deposit, although that is re-fundable.

Whats next eh????

Buying a House in Spain -The House Valuation

A few weeks ago the bank contacted Daddio to tell him the house needed to be valued and they'd send a Valuer out the next day.

The day of the valuation day arrives and they go to the house to meet the valuer. No show!

Its now the next week before the valuer arrives. Not quite sure why she has to be met at the property, its not as if its locked or anything!  She establishes that the Casteral Document (Land Registry) shows the property to have 5000M2 of land but the Ecritura (Deeds) show 1700 M2 and it was changed in January 2017???? Another odd one is that there is a triangle of land, going half way through the pool which isn't registered to anybody!!!!

The property its decided is to be valued with 1700 M2 of land.

Ten days pass until the valuation comes in at €95,000. The offer was for €120,000.

No problem. Withdraw the offer of €120,000 and offer €95,000 and sort out the land issues ourselves. Twelve days later and ermmm no can do say the bank, it still needs to be €120,000. So then, will the bank lend €120,000 for a house that THEY value at €95,000???? The same house that they have had as a reposession for 9 years!!!!

I'll let you know............

The Den

Rich and I are a bit bored at the moment and are taking every opportunity to explore all the little roads and lanes around us. We love finding a bit of mud or a river to play in (in the car obviously).

Last night, well early evening we went for a little venture out in my Landy, hoping we may see some interesting houses (out latest hobby) or maybe some wild life ( as we're a bit past wild life). We kind of drive up tracks only suitable for 4x4's. It can be a bit embarrassing when you roll up somebodys drive by mistake or go swanning down a dead end road, past houses with people outside BBQ-ing, pretending you know where you are going, only to have to do some very technical reversing, past all the BBQ-ing people again, whilst still trying to look like you are meant to be there and are not burglars, casing up potential houses.

Towards the end of our drive I decided we should take a right, up a little track. We admired the little stream on the left and commented how remote the place was when suddenly, around the corner were around a million tissues, I kid you not. We also came to a dead end. Whilst maneuvering, I got to inspect the 'tissues' closer. The tissues were in fact wet wipes and between the wet wipes were around a million condoms, all colours of the rainbow!

We soon realised that this is where the prostitutes must bring their punters. I always wondered how they managed to do business on the side of the road but they obviously have 'dens'. Judging by the amount of wet wipes and condoms, they must do a roaring trade!

The locals must know where these dens are so I was totally mortified to be spotted by two cars driving out of one, in our sign written Discovery!!!!!

Stage 3 Buying a house in Spain ONLY IN SPAIN COULD THIS HAPPEN!

So the legal lady gets given the casteral number to do a legal check on the property, make sure its all legal and there are no debts or fines. Does the check but the land doesn't show up, just the house. On the map it shows it on a plot of 4000 m2 and a plot of 500 m2 but by law plots can't be divided. We were told that the plot is 1700 m2??? A bit of a difference.

She phones the agent to find out what it says on the deeds. They tell her to call head office. She calls head office, they tell her the bank holds the deeds. She phones the bank, they tell her the town hall would know. She phones the town hall, the person is on holiday and they tell her to call next week. FFS!!!!!!!

Does anybody in this country know what they are doing???? Surely the bank didn't give a mortgage on this property X many years ago if the property is illegal???

Lets see what happens next week *(sighs very loudly)

Buying a property in Spain - Next stage

The day after the offer went in we were informed by the bank that the offer had been accepted! After a really shit week, this news was most welcome.

We spent the next week chasing the agent for the casteral number so we could check out the situation with the electric. In Spain if there are debts on the electric, it goes with the house and the next owner has to pay them before being re-connected (for a huge cost).

Four days and 5 chase ups later we finally receive the casteral number. We already had the address for the property but the casteral number showed a different address but the right property? (Only in Spain).

Phoned Iberdrola (the Spanish electric company) who didn't have any details of the property ever being connected at that address. Now, this could be because the property has been disconnected for many years and its gone from the system or it could be the wrong address. What do we do now????

In the mean time the bank were demanding more details of finances which haven't yet been submitted as the quarter only finished last week, so more delays. However the papers for the mortgage application are now signed and a mortgage application fee (€1000) has been paid.

Meeting the builder tomorrow to discuss Daddios renovations that he wants.

BUYING PROPERTY IN SPAIN - Easy peasy????

Whilst browsing through the Internet, for properties for a friend, who is thinking of investing in a property in Spain but lives in the UK, I come across the perfect property. The property in question looked amazing value for money although did require a bit of updating but nothing major.

We roughly knew where the property was so off we went, to have a look. As a bank re-possession, it was obviously empty, the gate was open and on closer inspection it was minus its doors and windows! Feeling a bit criminal like, we threw caution to the wind, traipsed through the jungle of a garden and had a good look around. Every light switch, bit of wiring, everything really had been robbed and there was a gaping hole in the roof where the property had been entered. Undeterred though we thought it was worth an offer.

On the website it gave you a box to tick if you wanted to put an offer in. It also asked if you'd viewed the property and then gave you a box for the offer. First though there was a trip to the bank to check the mortgage situation. All good, so far. We waited and waited for a response on the offer - nothing.

We contacted the bank, who contacted the agents representing the bank and were told the offer wouldn't be put  in until we'd viewed the property with the agent. No problem, we contacted the agent who promised to call us back with an appointment. Two days later, still nothing. Phoned again and were told the person we needed to speak to was on holiday. Another four days pass and still no contact. Another call to the agent and we were given the contacts phone number. We phone the contact, Natalia, no reply. Repeat 6 more times, give up! Do they actually want to sell houses????

Natalia finally calls us and tells us she hasn't got her diary and she will call the next day. Next day, nothing! Eight more attempts to get Natalia to answer her phone and we finally get a message from her telling us to contact Pablo. Contact Pablo, who answers after call number three and make arrangement to meet him the next day at 5.30! Yaaaaay!!!

Next day at 5.30, we all await eagerly for Pablo to arrive at the property. No show. We call Pablo, no answer, we call Natalia no answer! We continue ringing them both until Natalia finally answers and tells us she will contact Pablo. Finally we call Pablo and he answers!!!! He denies ever making the appointment but promises to meet us in the morning. Exasperated we head home for a much needed wine. Hard hard can it be to put an offer in on a bloody house?

Two bloody weeks, yes two weeks it takes to put an offer in on a house! Did have to laugh though that  when Pablo finally shows, he optimistically arrives with a key for the now existent front door.

Pablo hadn't realised how bad the house had got and thought the offer was a good one, so apparently the offer is now in! Watch this space .......

Victoria Station Parcent

I spent many years being a 'Corporate Wife' which involved endless meals out at usually, top end restaurants. I always found it very tedious not to mention pretentious and can honestly say I never once enjoyed a meal out. I'm not sure if I didn't enjoy meals out because I wasn't interested in eating (at the time) or if it was because neuvelle cuisine just didn't float my boat.

Since moving to Spain I haven't really ventured out in the 'dining experience' world, mainly because being a vegetarian and the Spanish thinking, tuna is a vegetable, has put me off, so my experiences have mainly been confined to Indian cuisine and the odd Italian.

I suggested a meal out to my parents last week and Daddio asked if we could try Victoria Station in Parcent as Mummios friends had recommended it so I booked it and on Saturday we went.

Rich wasn't keen on going as I told him it was a pub. It was a pub but only one side of it. We went to the restaurant side and sadly were the only customers that night. I cannot believe that the place isn't heaving. What a treat we had!

The menu was vast with something for everybody! We are a hard family to cater for with me being vegetarian, Rich only liking chicken and cod and Mummio a tough cookie to please.

First came the soup, beautiful homemade vegetable soup served in hot bowls with hot crusty rolls. This was accompanied with a little dish of various spreads for the bread. There were olives, butter, ali oli and tomato spread.

The starters came next. Mine was deep fried brie with red current jelly, served with a decorative but edible salad and decorated with a  flower shaped vegetable. The portion was huge and did not disappoint. I didn't eat it all though as I knew I had a few dishes to get through! Rich, Mummio & Daddio all had garlic mushrooms, served in a huge dish. Reports on this were also good!

Mixed sorbet then came out which confused Rich has he thought it was dessert!!! lol

Mains for me was Mushroom stroganoff, although there was a choice of two other vegetarian dishes which amazed me! Served with rice & veg, this was yummy. Rich had Cod and chips, served on a sheet of newspaper (on top of the plate) with hand cut chips & mushy peas. The cod was the size of a whale and was thick and succulent. Mummio had the most enormous steak and kidney pie and Daddio Ribs.

For desert we were all too full but were tempted by a platter of bite sized selection of desserts and coffee.

I have never been out with my family where all of us have enjoyed a meal so much, it was beyond amazing!

I want to give a big shout out to this amazing place and talented chef. More people need to visit and experience this food. Top notch!

Friday night whinge

Now I'm not one to whinge (coughs loudly) BUT I'm sitting here in the dark, on a Friday night, after a long hard week (feeling grotty, with man flu), waiting for my husband, who is in agony with his shoulder, to come home. The reason I'm sitting in the dark is I have to wait for Rich to turn the generator on, as in true mechanic style, hes never had time to set it up to work as a normal genny. You  kind of have to wave 2 wires together , blue and brown? (don’t get that bit wrong), pull a lever, press a button (all at the same time) whilst standing on one leg with your right arm in the air! Its defo a blue job for the boys!

I’m feeling  bit cross TBH.

We had a customer today (who incidentally paid his HUGE bill, 5 weeks late last time) who demanded that Rich work the weekend , as his vehicle needs to be back on the road on Monday. Fine, I understand the business world and know how important it is for vehicles to be done promptly and we’ve always obliged (time is money) but did he understand that we were a small business with bills to pay when he went swanning off without paying us! No, didn’t get a sorry, nothing.

THEN!

We officially finish work at 5.00 every day, although Rich nearly always stays, behind closed doors to catch up etc. Everybody knows we shut at 5.00 so why do people think its their right to say, order a grua at 5.00 so he has to stay or insist we stay until they can make I to collect their cars. That’s part of having your own business I hear you say and yes maybe so, but do we get paid extra for it? Are people grateful? No, its all about their own selfish little worlds.

Read all this back and perhaps I am being unreasonable and it is our business so I have to suck it up Buttercup! But next time you expect a business to go out of their way for you, maybe just think what maybe going on in their own lives and how you are effecting it. Anyway, there is Rich at 7.00pm now, waiting, in his cold garage, in agony, for a grua to arrive and here I am in the dark, with a long haired Chihuahua with a clinkered arse that stinks and needs washing, waiting for some light and water.

AND guess who’s working tomorrow morning????

(He better be home by the time Emmerdale starts)

Come to Spain - Live the Dream!

So I’m sitting here on my newly, half renovated naya (covereed terrace), in the sunshine. Its 4.45pm, the birds are singing, horses munching their hay, I’m surrounded by mountains and the oranges in the groves are all ready for picking. Sounds idyllic doesn’t it? And perhaps in normal circumstances it would be but the problem I have with all this is I have a streaming cold, headache, the dogs are going ape shit because I’m outside and they have been in all day and I’m f**king well locked out!

Well when I say locked out, that’s not quite the case. The door has swelled in all the rain and my key won’t turn. As well as a cold which could quite easily develop into man flu,you know, I now have bruised hips from barging the door, injured toes from kicking the door, sore throat from yelling at the dogs to shut up and a phone that has no credit or battery. So here I sit quietly (OK maybe not quietly) seething.

I’m not seething at anybody, just the bloody situation and I bet when Rich finally arrives he opens it first time which may just push me over the edge.

Why is it when you feel poorly all you want is your Mum? Not a normal thought from me but Mums are the only ones that fuss around you, making hot water bottles and convincing you that nobody has ever been as ill as you. Although having my Mum fussing around me now maybe quite nice, I think I’d rather have somebody here that could actually let me in, you know to tackle last nights washing up, put the washing away, mop & bleach the floor before making dinner etc.

OK husband has rushed to my aid, after I sent a text to Daddio which I didn’t think would go through and what do you know? He opened it first time and asked me why I didn’t kick the door. I pointed out my boot marks and in we went.

I have to be honest. Going in may have been a mistake! Not only was I greeted with the usual delights that I was expecting but I had a large puddle of diarrhea, a feather cushion that has lost its stuffing and  chicken which had gone off in the fridge!!!

What is it they say??? Be careful what you wish for!!!

Checking in for the wedding

Woke up at stupid o’clock and got ready to tackle the registry office, armed with a mountain load of paper work in a plastic folder, which was just as well due to the rain.We took a taxi mainly due to the torrential rain and also because we didn’t really know where we were. What we hadn’t anticipated was that we’d need £sterling so got ripped off by the taxi drivers exchange rate.

We pulled outside the registry office and entered the room, not too unlike a police sation. The people were behind screens nd there was a wooden bench in the corner. There was a couple in front of us, he sounded Australian and she sounded like she was Czech or something. Soon it was our turn. How hard could it be? We’d already emailed all our documents, a month or so before so we expected them to all be OK. We handed the documents over and were handed forms to fill out indepently. Alarm bells rang! Rich doesn’t do forms, doesn’t know his address, doesn’t know my date of birth and its become apparent doesn’t know his occupation!

 After filling  out the forms,we had to initial every question then they were taken away for marking!!! We both failed! Although I’d let Rich copy our address, he’d put it in a different order and me (spelling police extrordinaire) managed to spell deed poll wrong!!!! Feeling more than abit embarrassed infornt of a now crowded room, we hd to re-do our forms then with cheeks still buring we were called up again and questioned about my previouus name change. The confusion was 15 years ago I changed my name from my ex married name of Good (stop laughing) to Sims. I then lost the ded poll certificate and applied for another one and it came back with previous name Sims and current name Sims, which I agree is a bit strange but as I pointed ou,t I had obtained a british passport with the document the year before. A big, fat, ugly old bag informed me that Gibraltar is not the UK and different laws applied! She was backed up by a big, fat, controller (the one who pointed out my spelling error). My voice was getting quite high pitched and very posh by this stage, as the vision of going home unmarried crossed my mind. Rich was about to explode at them as we were sent to sit down only the bench ws full and I then found myself trying to justify how wrong these people were and I wasn’t really a criminal (although I felt like one). Everybody was very sympathetic and when we were called back and they said it would be ok, I think there may have been a cheer or maybe I imagined it. Suddenly the fat controller didn’t seem quite so bad although it would take a lot to forgive him for the spelling thing!

I was almost on a high now, we’d done it!!! Only not quite, we were then told we had to go down the road to a notary, in the pouring rain to get our papers stamped then back to return the papers. I was then feeling cross again, what a bloody faff!

 Off we went down the road, in the rain to the notary. Once in, we were told we had to pay more money. Of course they didn’t take cards and didn’t have change for euros!!!! Luckily another couple (elderly), who were also getting married had the same problem but with me lending them €2.50, we manged to pay in euros between us but then were told the registrar or what ever he was called, hadn’t arrived at work yet so to come back in an hour! For fucks sake, another bloody hour wasted in the bloody rain. We ended up going to a coffee shop with the elderly couple who insisted on buying us coffee (me an orange juice as I don't do coffee), as I lent them money. Was rather tempted to take a brandy, if only I liked it!!!!

Margaret and Pete, the elderly coupler were from Tenerife and it soon became apparent were part of the god squad. Now I don’t mind religion but its like having a cock, its great to have one but just don’t wave it in my face! They kept us entertained with stories about their parrot (what is it about me attracting old people with parrots?????) Apparently they had to re-home the parrot as it got nasty and kept calling Margaret(in Peters voice) when Peter was out which confused and scared Margaret as you may imagine!

We went back to the notary, signed the forms and took them back then, following Margaret & Peter who had incidentally bought a rain coat which looked like a condom, we went to find M & S to try and find Rich some more trousers as by this stage his only pair were rather wet.

M & S was a disappointment, it was very small, filled with clothes suitable for my grandfather (if he were alive) and mainly P.J’s strangely. It was also terribly expensive and we came out empty handed. 

We trapsed through the town, umbrella-less, getting soaked to the skin, hair stuck to our heads when we stopped looked at each other and headed straight for the nearest bar. Rich and I never drink during the day but Rich took a beer and I had a bacardi breezer, rebels that we are and sat in a wooden cubicle, leaving puddle on the seats.

Eventually we made it back to the apartment where Caroline and Mark had been locked out! Later found out this wasn't true, Mark had gone to the wrong apartment block.

Arriving in Gibrealter TRIP TO GIB - part one

Off we went, car loaded to the hilt, relaxation pills taken (not sure what they were but Caroline seemed to think they worked, so not one to turn down relaxation, in it went). Rich drove as he was voted best driver, I rode shotgun and was the in house DJ (CD controller) and Caroline & Mark went in the back and were in charge of distributing snacks & sweets and instigating toilet stops and giving directions (only went wrong once.

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The rain didn’t hinder the mood and we were in good spirits when we did our first stop, somewhere near Granada. Service stations are so different to service stations in the UK, where you need a second mortgage to eat at the Little Chef or what ever they call it these days. The best bit about the Little Chefs was always the strawberry flavoured lolly you got if you ate all your dinner.This place was more like a very noisy, Spanish bar in  town. Speckled tiled floors, long wooden bar with stools, but not very many, the bar man desperately trying to ignore you. It was so crowded that a table was not available so we perched on 2 stools and we all ordered toastada's & tomato and felt rather Spanish really.  Caroline also ordered jamon serrano which was the worst she’d ever tasted, apparently it tasted like soap!

The following stops, in the now torrential rain were just toilet stops so by the time we got to Gib we were starving and fantasizing about finding a quaint English bar serving pub grub. Mark wanted Steak pie, I was willing to try scampi after not eating it for 5 years after a bad experience, Caroline & Rich wanted fish n chips.

Well my first image of Gib wasn’t exactly great. The rain was relentless and after several laps of the island trying to find a parking space (where had all these people come from????) we had to  settled for Morrissons cafe, as that was the only place with parking spaces. We headed straight to the café  where we ate a very basic late lunch, had a little look around the supermarket then went to try and locate our apartment.

Several more laps of the island later and we found the key holder for the apartment and located the apartment, unloaded, then the men spent the next hour finding a parking space whilst Caroline and I unpacked and got settled in for the night. We didn’t venture out due to the rain but the men were sent out for an Indian takeaway and came back soaked, Marks phone ruined!

Indian was Ok although couldn’t eat it all so saved some for breakfast!

Saint Emma Garside

Now I haven't written a blog for some time as I've been busy going away getting married, which I will write about soon but it will take quite a while as sooooo much entertainment happened.

Now yesterday I went to Lidl and no, I didn't get trolley rage. I only had a few bits to pick up so I picked up a basket, you know one of those with wheels that you can bang into peoples ankles when they are in the way and off I went.

By the time I got to the check outs there was only one checkout open and a queue of 12, to which I joined the end. The checkout girl seemed oblivious to the queue which was now snaking down the bleach and dog food isle and the queue wasn't getting any shorter as she was dealing with a woman who wasn't looking best pleased, her lips were poised like a chickens arse as she huffed and puffed and sighed at her wait. An old lady tried to ambush the queue by sneaking down an isle and trying to join mid queue but everybody glared at her until she retreated the the back.

After a few minutes, the check out girl noticed the queue was almost reaching the water section and ding donged for another girl to open another checkout. The diddery old man in front of me just stood there, even though he was right beside the new checkout desk, so the old lady who tried to push in told him to go to the new desk. She then promptly pushed, yes pushed past me and plonked her green orange crate on the conveyorbelt, oblivious to the evil looks, tuts and general hatred aimed toward the selfish old bag. I stood there open mouthed at the rudeness of her and a lady in the queue beside me who really should have been the first at the new check out, caught my eye. She was an elder lady, very slim and attractive and obviously, very cross. Before I knew it I'd opened my mouth and offered her to go before me. Now I'm not the most patient person when it comes to supermarkets so TBH I was as surprised at the offer as she was! She scooted over and put her milk, water cress (think thats what it was), cherrry tomatoes and various other ultra healthy looking shit on the convoyerbelt whilst thanking me profusely, telling me how kind I was, even though the old lady had been so rude to me. She went on to explain my actions were even more appreciated as she was late to visit her sick husband in hospital. My cheeks reddened. Suddenly she noticed my eyes, which are really quite blue. She stopped in her tracks and told me she'd never seen such beautiful eyes and I deserved them as I was also a beautiful person. Cheeks got redder. The young chap (well 30ish) behind me then asked me to turn around so he could see! Before I knew it I was spouting out all sorts of bullshit about my eyes to justify them, without admitting they weren't real. I've been doing this since I was 22 so to me, its not really bullshit, I've said it so often that I actually believe what I'm saying! She was lucky really that I didn't say something like 'Yes, if you look into the eyes of Saint Emma, you too will become a kind person' lol. Perhaps I should have said that to the old lady! Who by now had watched her entire shop go through and gather at the end before paying by credit card, forgetting her pin number, then starting to pack, methodically of course, you know, veg in one bag, meat in the other, bread and biscuits in the other! Nice attractive, older lady's shopping was starting to collide with the old ladies and it looked like a row was going to break out, so the checkout operator, who had blue streaked hair, intervened and shoved old ladies shopping into bags, rapidly to get her out of the way. The whole of the queues were still glaring at me (in fascination obviously), the freak who was kind to somebody and who had freaky blue eyes as my shopping which consisted of 4 bottles of wine, a bottle of vodka and some cat food sailed by.

As I drove home, I of course analyzed the whole experience. Some might have thought I was a doormat for accepting such bad behavior from a stranger and then letting somebody else go before me. Of course I really just wanted to get back home as soon as possible to my fur babies and to hang out my duvet cover whilst it was still sunny, not wait around, getting embarrassed by some strange lady who loved my eyes, but I concluded that no, I wasn't a doormat, I was just able to make a small difference to somebody else life, in a good way. Yes, I felt good. I also hope that by pushing in and receiving all those negative vibes that it was worth it to the old lady.

Amen