Disposing of pickles and other tasks

Today I looked at the list of jobs I have been keeping on the task bit of my Outlook. There were about 350 crossed out jobs, going back to March, when we decided to go. I expect if I were a different person, someone entrepreneurial, I could turn this into a product and market it to people about to move house. It feels as if it is something like this:

- Get cats their rabies jab. Go back to check antibody levels. Speak to airline about cats, book flights for cats, pick up cat passports. Go to Pets at Home to get cat carrier. Pets at Home say ask airline what is approved carrier. BMI say get approved carrier from shop. Order carrier, it is not in stock. Call back airline, they want cat weights and dimensions of carrier. Give rough ideas as cats will not stand on scale.

- Weeks later call back, carrier was not actually ordered as manager did it and ha ha he is not very reliable, just like a man! Well, please can I have one? You better come over and look at them. Go and get massive carrier, maybe it will not fit in car. Give measurements to airline who say they will have to get back with confirmation as these are different. Do I need fit to travel health certificate? ask DEFRA? DEFRA say ask vet? vet says ask DEFRA. DEFRA say ask airline. Airline say no, not sure though so book cats in. Vet calls to say I see your cats are booked for check, vet is not in that day. This is Saturday before we go and check must be 48 hours before travel. What do I do? Vet does not know, suggests I ask DEFRA. Get cat litter tray, bowls for travel.

- Invite agents round to see house to rent. Many agents come round, all very nice, your house is charming. Do a lot of paperwork, using sticky address labels. Order more sticky address labels. Nobody comes round to visit. Call round agents and chase, take photos of house and shrink to email size, email to all agents. Have anxiety attack about house not being nice enough. Put house on websites. Change price of house. Agents say get permission from HSBC to rent house. Ask permission, they send me forms, ask for £3000 for permission. Am about to swallow this when I think, hmm, it's a lot of money and ring to check this is right. Woman laughs sheepishly and says, well, how long are you renting for? I say not sure, she says, ok then, it'll only be £250. I say that's a bit bad, I nearly paid it. She giggles and says, yes, it's awful really, they try it on.

-Agent advises to get hall decorated. Hire decorator, he does estimates, says he will do it all while we are away on May half term week. Is this certain? (it is March now). order Farrow and Ball paint. Go away for half term to Spain. Decorator calls, says job is worse than he thought. I say he came in twice before hand to look at it, why is it worse now? Life is like that, you don't know what you're going to find on a project till you do. Yes, I know this from AMEC. He suggests we just cover it up with some heavy flock wall paper. I say no, I don't think so. Why not? It is not my taste. OK then, we'll talk when I get back.

Get home Sunday late pm to find lights are all off, there is no power in house. Wardrobe is in bathroom, hall is half plastered, doorbell is off, etc. Avoid hysterical call to decorator till Monday, then make it. Wait in for decorator, he says he is on another job till mid next week. Also, plaster has to dry. Argue with decorator (why is my job not priority? why did he say it would all be done last week of May?) Evntually get decorator back. Painting work starts.

Have nervous breakdown symptoms because only three weeks' viewing left and decorator says F&B paint has not stuck to wall properly, it is all patchy. He says he has never thought much of F&B, we argue about it as I have used it lots of times before. He gets his mate on the phone for advice and says loudly "Yes mate, F&B, I don't think much of it myself, either." We speak to F&B on the phone, they say plaster probably not properly dry. Decorator says this is a big problem, does not know what to do. In the end, he paints over it in F&B emulsion and it works. He finishes it all off then I ask him to hang the clock back. I explain I would rather he put the fixing in as you can't just tap nails into the wall. He says you can. He does it, and a big piece of plaster comes off. He says he will come back and fix it later.

One agent puts up board without asking. Ask about board (this is when they put it up without asking). She says it is a good marketing technique, so board stays. Neighbours all say: "I see your house is up for rent!" and "Haven't you rented it yet?" No.

Am advised by one agent that I had too many agents and this could be the death of my property. Says she once knew a house that took a YEAR to go, because it was on with too many agents. People think this means there must be something wrong with it. Ask her why she can't tell them there isn't. Ask Xtina for advice. She says this is cynical ploy, but also, maybe true. I drop agent. and some others, stay with two. Change the price again. Sandy says not to panic and he does not want to subsidise tenants, but I do it anyway. Phone them constantly, driving them mad. . ake up book with all appliance information, find appliance information, find utility information, find plumber, electrician and all other supplier numbers, find meters and stopcock, fill in book.

- HURRAH, we have tenants. I knew only non-Brits would appreciate my house; he is French. Take nice lady round, show her all appliances and how they work. Coffee machine breaks down when she is gone, call Miele, book engineer. Call tenant about taking on allotment, take her round to allotment. Fix security light, buy new bulbs for security light, SHIT light not working, call decorator, try all fuses, photo light and email to decorator to replace chase agency for rental agreement, organise cleaners, book cleaner in to do estimate, put cleaning into rental agreement. Get gifts for agents who got tenants, wrap and take round. Get weedkiller to do patio, call tree company to take out dead tree that may be Health and Safety risk. Tree people cannot come for a week, then come, will have to come back to take out tree. Cleaner does estimate - cat wee patch on carpet is big problem and needs fitter to come and replace underlay. Big job, suggests I get someone to do it. I suggest he could do it. He says he will get back to me. Agency have not yet sent rental agreement, chase it up. Call insurers to advise of new conditions.

- Pack up house, order boxes from online site, order more boxes, order bubble wrap, order tape, order more tape, SHIT next day delivery not arrived, on phone, phone does not answer, call back, call back. It is on the lorry madam, no we can't say when it will arrive. No, delivery is next day, that does not actually mean it is next day guaranteed. If you read the small print, you will see. Chase orders that have not arrived, pack, pack, pack, pack. Run out of bubble wrap, order more. Go to get Arctic root and St Johns Wort tablet stocks to take so I do not revert to unmedicated self when in Spain. There is no more Arctic Root (wonder drug) in stock, order it. Go to get cat discs engraved and collars for cats, batteries for scales to take to Spain in case they don't have these, plus bayonet fitting light bulbs for our lamps (no bayonet fittings there).


- Go through kitchen, emptying and washing about 100 jars of pickle which are past their sell by date, sometimes by about 3 years.

(I pointed out to Sandy long ago that he ought to join Pickles Anonymous: I remember him when he thought the Millenium Bug would mean no food in shops: he stockpiled about 3 cupboards of Ambrosia Cream Rice and Macedonia Fruit Salad which I said I would rather starve than eat and then after there was no Millenium Bug I had to throw all that out; even school Harvest Festival would not want it, they expect nice Twining Tea and Bonne Maman jam. I have to hope that in Spain, we will not have access to so many pickles and also that people will not take it into their heads to give them to us for Christmas. It is all down to people not knowing what to buy for a man, which has meant that for years, we have been being given small jars of pickled beetroot or chutney (which I have seen it lots of times but never eaten it; chunks of vegetable in brown sauce doesn't appeal to me). They come with a little checked cloth over them and quaint writing but the fact is they are just Branston pickle more or less and they move slowly to the back of the cupboard, where they go off. Fortunately, the Mercadona doesn't have much pickle, only olives and small white onions, which Sandy doesn't seem so compelled to collect.

I am not joking when I say Pickles Anonymous I actually think it's a psychological problem he has. Women bang on about diets and read novels about them but actually men have just as many food issues, only different ones. The way they manifest stress is different. Recently, Sandy has started behaving like a marauding bear, one of those ones that invade people's bins in Canada which are called "rogue" bears. The other day, he approached the fridge as if he were going to claw it open, and he is even looking more and more like a bear. I told him maybe he had reverse anorexia, where you look in the mirror and actually you are fat, but you think you look thin. He just laughed and said he was planning to see how big he could get.)

- Take jars to bottle bank, several trips, using a lot of petrol (plus water used to wash them out, which takes a long time, especially sticky Chinese sauce which will not come out of the bottle even if upside down in sink).

- Fill boxes of soft toys, apologising to the bears as I compress them down, plus random clothes, and about 1 million computer games. Keep telling the kids "you won't be on the computer all the time in Spain, you know." It is true, they play outside a lot more, and now Alexander thinks he can get a quad bike, I don't think we will see him for dust.

- Make Sandy get rid of many shirts left in cupboards "too gay" (ie they fit and are not baggy enough to pull up round beer belly). Go to Oxfam with bags of shirts. He has never thrown anything away in his life: the only reason we don't have more is because I have removed university rugby shirts, etc. on the sly. Run out of boxes, order more. Throw things, throw things out, pack. Order missing chess pieces from Alexander's talking chess set he has never used because of missing pieces, so we can take it with us. Go and get books because you can't buy them in Spain, pack them.

- Go on Royal Mail website to try and work out how to get post forwarded. Can't understand site - it seems only to cater for moving in the UK. Call them, listen to call centre music. They can send me a form in the post. I order it, but also get one from the post office. The one I ordered turns up about 5 weeks later, after I have had the reply from the second one. Meanwhile, go through files to find all people who send us post, make a list of them. Call them to tell them we are moving. A lot of things like phones and his credit cards are in Sandy's name because that's his domain. They say things like, due to the Data Protection Act, we cannot speak to you as your name is not on the account. Where is your husband? He is in Australia. Get irritable and say spitefully, well, you'll be the ones writing to the wrong address!


- I make a list for him. I call the numbers I have and get automated call centres. Option 1, 2 and 3 do not include moving to Spain. I use cunning ruses to get a human being, and when I do, they pass me around a bit. Someone says, "Right, give us the new address." I try to explain Spanish address on the phone. People say "What?" and "What's the postcode?" L-A-S that is LIMA, ALPHA, SIERRA... I say. "Is that LOS?" No it's LAS. I have a lot of chats with people about how super, moving to Spain, I bet the weather is lovely out there. It takes about 2 whole days to make the calls; a lot of them say, you have to put it in writing. I cannot even reach half the people who send us junk mail; they do not have phone numbers or addresses. I call some of them several times; they say we are on a number of lists which is why we keep getting more post.

- Cancel store cards. Ask for all bills to go online. Listen to "ANOTHER GIRL, ANOTHER PLANET" on Vodafone helpline about 6 times, till nearly driven mad. Girl on the other end says, yes, we are thinking about changing the music. I point out also they could tell you where you are in the queue like everyone else. She says they are thinking about that too. Cancel more cards, call Sevenoaks council re poll tax. They register I am going and am in credit with them. They say they will stop all paperwork and pay off the account. A week later they sent me a paper bill for next year.


-Call Trevor (garage man) about selling Mercedes. He gives me dealer's number, I go and see them, they make an offer, I sell the car. We now only have one, which means Sandy and I have to negotiate all the time. Call Landrover about selling the car back to them. Sandy has claimed this is not possible as we are on a 3 year contract. I am not sure; anyway, we have nowhere to park it in the UK as tenants will take both parking spaces. Landrover are great. Nice guy called Darryl says we can return it and there is enough change on the contract to hire a car. We hire a Passat and let the side down on the school run. Lose the cheque from Landrover and have to call them back to reissue it.

- Resume driving responsiblities. I now have to: leave at 7.30 to go to Alexander's busstop, then back to Lara's school. If Sandy is working in town, go to station in Chelsfield first, or afterwards. Get home, do all other stuff, then do same in reverse from 4pm, or 3pm if school has kindly decided it is school play so children can go home early for a rest before hand.


- Get big stock of fishfood for fish, arrange for fish in tank, orchids, freezer and microwave to go to Jamie and Neville, and Jan respectively. They turn up in the drive: large lady in purple (Jan),tattooed cool skinny guy in khaki fatigues (Neville) and larger guy with jewellery and cap (Jamie). Keith (policeman neighbour) is fixing his bike in the garage, we are chatting. It's the first day the sun has been out for weeks; it all feels a bit Lily Allen. There is some banter:


Me: Here comes my team.
Keith: Team of pikies, you mean.
Neville and Jamie laugh.
Jan: Anyone want some lavender?
Keith: Or Little Britain, more like.

I start to feel sad about going. I have some cool neighbours here, I really do. I tell Neville and Jamie to name the 4 fish (bred from eggs in our pond) after the family. Neville says if one dies we'll decide which one of you it is and let you know. Then they relent and say they will send me some photos of the fish. Jan takes my orchids. It is all a bit final as they wheel the stuff away.