Hello folks. There is nothing worse than staring at a blank screen, looking for the words to start this piece. Even worse when I’m contemplating putting this into a ‘blog’ format – thanks Deb! I have created a ‘rough’ blog template, now all it needs is something in it! Simple really! But for some reason this first step, dipping the proverbial toes into the water for the first time, is a little scary. Ok, enough of the procrastination lets give this thing a go.
I think my email road trip diaries took us up to arriving in
All our worldly possessions arrived in a truck as big as a house it’s self, and again I believe that I detailed this in an earlier email. The whole thing went quite well really – save the hole kicked in the bedroom wall by one of the guys! I was going round the house seeing how things were going, & moved the bed in one of the spare rooms. As I did so, I saw a ruddy great hole in the wall at skirting board level. In fact the top of said skirting board was also damaged! To say I was a little upset, would be to put it mildly & for the sake of the lady readers, I won’t regurgitate the string of monosyllabic Anglo Saxon that the driver received! For the time being said hole is covered by the bed, & will have to be repaired in due course. Bill being sent to moving company – of course!
With our 1½ pints jammed into our 70’s retro 1pint pot, we set about unpacking. The house has never had a serious ‘face lift’ since it was built in the early 70’s, so there is a serious lack of storage space. I guess women didn’t shop as much then as they do now…………, and we are now learning to live without our beloved walk in closets – even I managed to fill mine in the old place. How things change, I remember as a young man on my first RAF posting my wardrobe consisted of an old sweater, jeans, & motorbike boots! Anyway, I dragged my heals for two days then on the weekend, we blitzed the place & everything was out of box's, or repacked into another box then either consigned to the basement, or unwanted box’s ready for disposal.
We even managed our first shot at the local grocery store – Safeway – and learn all over again to substitute our known brands/goods with ‘local’ alternatives. Six & a half years of living in the ‘land of plenty’ has thoroughly spoiled us, & we found ourselves going round the supermarket constantly comparing with our previous shop - Ukrops. There was nothing like the range or variety that we had become used too, but I dare say in a few months we’ll have forgotten what we used to shop for. Except David's wonderful Beef Wellingtons!!!!!!!
Whilst buying some fresh Trout, we had a chat with the lady behind the counter – very helpful & friendly. She went on to ask if I have ever fished for trout. The nearest I ever got was a trout hatchery near Basingstoke Hants. Here my kids Simon & Gemma fed the trout which were swimming in keep ponds, & we picked a couple of ‘big buggers’ for the plate. So, no was my short answer. It seems that fishing for trout here is carried out in the lakes & suitable trout rivers, but not just by the landed gentry!
She then went on to ask if we had ever tried ice fishing. I pondered for a moment then told her that there wasn’t much call for that in
As I previously mentioned, we have dubbed the ‘ole’ place the ‘retro house’. It has a couple of amusing characteristics about it, which are worth the telling. The front of the house faces south, and as such catches a lot of sunshine. To the Brits in the audience, winter sunshine isn’t grey & miserable & ‘hissing’ down with rain! This stuff is quite invigorating, & lots of it.
Now keeping in mind that this is the retro house, the blinds were probably fitted ‘several’ years ago, & now a touché past their best. In our room, the blind takes careful coaxing to withdraw onto the roller. Being tall & able to follow its retreat is a positive bonus. Wendy’s efforts are less controlled & have a more spectacular outcome. Tugging the blind further & further down to encourage the recoil. Then all of a sudden, the thing springs into life & rattles toward the ceiling at a great rate of knots, wrapping round & round the pole finally coming to rest almost out of reach. To which my dear wife utters an ‘ooops’! I have given up on the other two blinds. That will be down to future guests – you have been warned.
Then there was the euphemistically named, ‘automatic garage door opener’. This thing looks similar to the one I left behind in the Burg, though the details on the side of this model are written in latin! It was obvious from the ‘box’ suspended beneath the motor mechanism by a couple of wires, that this ‘device’ had not initially been installed with a remote facility. A wire ran back from said mechanism, to a door bell type button near the door into the house. This meant a laborious navigation exercise had to be carried out each & every time we took a car out of the garage. Push button, crank open door, drive car out, return into garage, press button to close, exit house by front door!
Now, I lived in the land of instant gratification for way too long to tolerate this process for very long. A short telephone call with the landlord’s handyman produced the promise of resolving the situation. In the mean while, we persisted with running in & out of the house. A couple of days later the handyman returned with a possible solution & a funny little remote, the likes of which I had never seen before. A black box the size of a matchbox, with one small white button in the centre!
This was nothing like the swish key fob type remote that I had become accustomed to, with the facility to operate 3 x remote ‘thingies’! All be it I had only ever operated to garage door, there was still the ‘possibility’ that I could find yet more for it to open! Modern or not, the ruddy thing didn’t work & said handyman disappeared with remote in one hand, & previously mentioned ‘box’ - now removed from the motor. With a promise to return ‘soon’ he was off!
In order to shorten this marathon door closing process, I decided that a quick experiment was in order! As I was already going out in the Jeep which was now on the drive, I stretched my arm out, touched the ‘door bell’ button on the wall which set the door in motion. I moved ‘swiftly’ (keep the comments to yourselves please) toward the closing door, aiming to duck under before I had to perform a lengthways body roll under the door. Fortunately, the door moved with about the same speed & agility as me, and I extricated myself from the garage without ending up on my arse! I passed this useful
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end & handyman eventually returned with a further solution to the problem. After a little simple wiring, we now have remote garage door openers on sun visor clips. The range has something to be desired though! In our VA home, you could operate the door from a good 200’ from the house. This version requires you to almost ram the door, in order to be close enough for the remote to operate. Still it does the job, but no where near as entertaining as watching Wendy hit the door button at the far end of the garage & ‘scurry’ beneath the closing door! Ahhh, the simple pleasures of life.
Ok, this has been quite a lengthy inaugural piece, I’ll try to use a little less ‘verbage’ in future. I hope you find my 'offering' enjoyable, & look forward to comments – but only if they are complimentary. Otherwise, keep them to your self & open your own ruddy blog! I’ll see if I can include some photos on the site, failing that I have created a new album in Snapfish & I’ll send out the details.
Hope everyone is keeping well, & to steal a closing line from a much loved Irish comedian, ‘good night & may your God go with you’.
