50+ and proud of it.

(ring, ring, ring) "Hello" "Hello, it's me 1 ! I just stabbed myself in the foot with a pair of hairdressing scissors!" "Umm, what did you want to go and do that for?" "Never mind why, shall I go and get a tetanus jab?" "Dunno, ring up NHS Direct and ask them" "Are you kidding, they'll just says 'Yes' to be on the safe side, and I've got better things to so than to wait hours on the phone waiting for someone to answer" "Your choice, it's your foot that's bleeding - why don't you ring up the local hospital 2 and ask them instead?" "Good idea. What shall I tell them?" "You could say that you decided that the stress of the Festive Season 3 has become too great and you decided to end it all by stabbing yourself in the foot - just in case you changed your mind later." "That's not helpful" 1 The Wife. 2 Minor Injuries Unit only... 3 Can't say "Chri

Shit happens, as my friend used to say (sadly, he's dead now, but that is another story 1 ). Mr Ego drilled a hole in the wrong place for the handle on one of the small doors. "Don't worry" he says, I've ordered another one. A *large* parcel turns up some days later with a full height 600mm door. I ring MFI (again). "Err, there's a parcel here with the wrong door in it" "Why did you order that one then sir?" "Eh? I didn't order it, it was the fitter he... Never mind, can you send me another door?" "Why do you want another 600m door, when it's wrong?" "No. I want another door to replace the one that's got the hole in the wrong place" "Oh, What door is that then?" "The small 'on the wall cupboard' door' that's only 450mm high!" "We don't make that one" "WTF? Look at the sales order woman, I ordered four small cupboards!" "Oh they're

So the "man" turns up last Monday armed with a screwdriver and a large ego and starts to fit the kitchen. He decides that because I've not paid him to do the plumbing for the sink, he's going to fit the sink unit such that it's impossible to get to the pipe-work behind; and he knows that the dishwasher infeed hose won't reach the appliance tap under the sink... I got him back by going to MFI and asking them supply me with the shelves which he's taken away with him because there's no place for them. Well, they're my shelves, I want to throw them away, not him. I eventually re-do the pipework and fit the dishwasher, outside tap spur and new monobloc tap using "speedfit" flexibles. I should at this juncture point out that the new kitchen saga all began because the old taps dripped. The new tap dripped. I take the tap back to B&Q and ask for a refund under Sales Of Goods Act - not fit for purpose. Much to my amazement, I get a full ref

So we've got this new kitchen on order from MFI and decide to buy the sink from B&Q (Gillingham). (We liked the colour or something). Now B&Q bless 'em, put a list of other "stuff" to get when you buy a sink. On the shelf it says "you need Packs A, B & C 1 " - which we duly purchase. Pack "B" is the complex double-sink pipework that you need to get it all to drain away through Pack "C" - the bottle trap. We go home. After three... "oh the leg bone is connected... etc etc" and after 20 minutes it's obvious that Pack "B", part F32 does not in anyway shape or form connect to Pack "C", bottle trap. My wife reads a label on the sink hidden behind the Leopard 2 that says "You need Packs A, B & D". We decide go to Herne Bay for a day out and on the way back, drop into B&Q (Herne Bay). To pick up Pack D and meet an old 3 man in a B&Q suit who claims to be a plumber:- "Sorr

It's like this. The weather stays dry for 2 weeks - they come and put up the sides and they find that the specialised roof hasn't turned up from the makers as it should - and of course it rains overnight. So all that lovely sun-drying has come to naught... Bugger. I woke up at 3:00am to hear the rain pouring down. "Don't worry" I think, "I can always sweep it out in the morning" The 3:04 paranoia sets it... "Hang on! The doors are fitted, is really is like a swimming pool now, it could potentially get to six feet deep! Don't be silly, it can't rain that much! Ah, but, there's a hole where the sparky has drilled through the wall to put the ring-main. My God! If it gets that high it'll be all over the living room. Quick get up and open the doors...". And so and so forth in a similar vein. Fortunately, I fall asleep. I awake to find about 1mm in puddles on the floor. The men arrive. "Hello, don't worry, the lad will dry i

I came home from work today (in the dark) to find that the conservatory was completely erected. "Odd" I thought, "I understood that it was going to take at least 3 days." I got the keys and went inside to have a look, was very impressed and went back indoors. "Nice isn't it?" asked the wife. "Yup, it's damn cold though, I though all that double-glazing was supposed to hold the heat?" "Well, they'll be back tomorrow though" "Why" "They haven't put the roof on yet..."

I am ashamed to admit that I trusted what my eldest son told me. Short version: Letter from Police about speeding, "It wasn't me" "Are you sure?" "Yes, really wasn't me, I was sh***ing my girlfriend at the time." "Ok, I'll write a nice solicitor sounding letter" ...time passes... (ring) (ring) "It's the Police, (blah) Peverting the course of justice (blah) Video evidence (blah) Lose license (blah)" "Um, it was me really" Funnily enough, I went very quiet. I am really, really, really f*'ing annoyed with the little twat. Not for speeding, we've all done that haven't we chaps?, but for lying to me...

I certainly didn't expect one of the hedgehogs to hibernate in the greenhouse... I need to do some research - do they get up at all for a snack, like squirrels do? Or, can I shut the door? Are they smart enough to ring the bell if they want to get out?

Another outing for the daughter in the car. This time 3 miles along the main road to pick up son number 2 from his friends. Her boyfriend came with us in the back of the car. "Don't say a word! " I warned him. And, to be fair, not a murmur was heard. When we got back I asked the question - "Well, that wasn't too bad, I didn't think I was going to die that time, did you?". There was an ominous silence. "Ummm, only twice..."

The men have gone and left a nice wall with a concrete (oh, and jabalite) floor. In England, as you know, it rains a lot. Therefore the answer to the question "What's the difference between a swimming pool and a walled conservatory base?" is of course "None". The first member of our family to discover this was Leo, our ginger tom cat. He still hasn't recovered.

It was daughter's 17th birthday yesterday and we ventured out onto the road for the first time. Getting out of the village is interesting to say the least as the roads are very narrow and generally not suitable for novice drivers, particularly at nightfall. With a suitable amount of encouragement along the lines of "err, my side of the road please" and "ok, I'll get the branches from under the wipers" we reached a heady 35 miles an hour as we neared the next village. A country road isn't a real country road without a 90 degree bend in it, is it? So we duly hit said bend at the aforementioned speed. "Eeek, brake, brake, BRAKE!" - fair play we reached the bend at a leisurely pace - and then we hit the floodwater at the apex. I have my arm out of the window and most of the rainwater is now forced up my sleeve and down the inside of my jacket. Then "something happened" and a noticed a weird thumping noise from the nearside. "Pull ov

The men finished the dwarf wall and got on with the floor. These guys have to "raise the floor" to get it onto the same level as the rest of the house. I spoke to the Floor Man - "You've got to raise this up a bit, how much concrete and ballast are you going to use?" "Err, based on the dimensions and knowing the density of concrete, I'd say about 8 tonnes" The Deputy Floor Man raised a surprised eyebrow - "Wot?, sod off Jim, I ain't mixin', humpin' an' layin' 8 tonne o' muck, you can soddin' well do it" I sloped off sideways muttering something about 'how many teas were required' and returned some 5 minutes later. "Err, me and Eric have had a word and we're going to put in a jabalite 1 floor which is much better and has greater thermal properties, and, err, more expensive" "I'm not paying anymore, it's not in the contract, stick with the plan" "Ok, we're going t

I often have conference calls between the USA, England and Europe. These are notoriously long-winded and can go on for an hour or more. So it's not unusual for people to be late in "dialing in". Today was no exception, the Chairman of the call (i.e. the chap with the meeting password) had sent an email to all participants saying that even he was going to be late. However, I dialed in smack on time (at 14:00 BST) to hear the meeting start - the Chair having resolved his earlier problem. The following amazing 1 conversation took place:- 14:00 "Hi all, how are we going to proceed?" 14:01 "On Tuesday we'll turn everything off and restart with new parameters" 14:02 "Everyone alright with that?" 14:03 "Yup" 14:04 "Bye" (click, click, click). I then immediately receive another call from a customer which goes on for approximately 30 minutes. During which time I see an email pop into my inbox at 14:25 with the message "Yo

I went home last night to find a large trench where the decking used to be. At the bottom was the foul drain (as expected) plus another (unexpected) 4" pipe running at 45 degrees across the corner of the trench. "That's a problem" I thought. It turns out to be the rainwater pipe running into the soakaway which is found to be approximately 300mm from the foundations. Graham, the builder, is smart enough not to carry on with the surveyor's say-so. So the surveyor rings me up this morning to tell me that there's absolutely no problem at all. "So what's the problem then?" "There isn't one. Shall we carry on, or shall we dig up your entire garden and reposition the soakaway at 5m from the house?" "Eh? There is a problem isn't there, or you wouldn't be on-site and ringing me up would you?" "No, no, the rainwater isn't going to eat into the foundations and make the whole thing collapse!" "So you'r

SKI - spending the kids inheritance . Well, why not? Of all the things my Aunt would have approved of is a conservatory and a new kitchen. The last time we looked at this was about 3 years ago and found that B&Q do the exact conservatory that we wanted - so we toddle off to B&Q and get another quote. "It's £6,500 supply, customer fit" he beamed at us. "Ok, what's that with you fitting and doing the dwarf wall? "That's £19,400, sir." (Not a blog typo, he really did come up with that) "Eh?" "Oh err, um, I made a mistake, I've added the base work twice! Gosh that's only £13,400 now!" "Bye." I toddle off to the local independent conservatory chap who builds to your exact measurement. "There you go, here are some plans from B&Q. How much to supply and fit?" "About half and that's with a free fan or free cane furniture" "You've got the job. Hang on, it's says here in yo

Can anyone explain to me why Ezeedsl keep changing the web address of my personal site from "www.ptv.e7even.com/ htdocs/ index.htm" to "www.ptv.e7even.com/index.htm" - i.e. without the /htdocs? This seems to happen randomly and without warning. It's damn annoying. Also, "Blogger's" spell checker suggests "Cling Film" for "Gillingham" - which amused me...

We spent 10 (count them) hours in total trying to buy a new kitchen over the weekend: 4 * 2.5 hour "consultations" with MFI, B&Q and Homebase. The latter being most fun. We turned up to an appointment with "Sara" who claimed no knowledge of us. "He wrote it in the book" I complained. "Oh yes, so he did". Anyway, "Sara" was "busy" and could Julie (or whatever her name was) do it instead? Now Julie has just spent the last two weeks on holiday and got back late the night before - so the poor love was shattered before we even started on her. "I've just come back off holiday and they've changed the software!" She hadn't a clue how to drive the new CAD package and spent most of the time moving the mouse over the icons hoping that the tooltips would give her an idea. She knew she had to click the little "disk thingy" to save the work - it kept popping up with a "Save As" dialogue whic

For the first time in what seems like all of the Summer, I managed to be free for the "last Saturday of the month" last weekend and went to my American Car Club meeting at "the diner". After saying 'Hi' to everyone I was handed a free raffle ticket, and, I also bought some more to help the club funds. Later on in the evening I was most surprised to be handed a plaque that read Car Of The Month - Oct 2006 . This surprised me somewhat as I hadn't even had much chance to wash & polish it. I had however missed the vital point. "Who's got number 635?" "Oh, that's mine. What have I won?" "Here's your plaque". This is true.

Now much as I love my mother, there comes a point when oldpersonicide becomes a distinct possibility. Every year for her birthday, we go up to the Midlands and bring her back for a week 1 so that we can take her out and all those good things. My wife organises her work and takes a few days off, I arrange "no meetings" so I can come home for lunch and the children make sure that they are "in" during the evenings. We drive the 4 hours up to the Midlands. "Hello Mom, get your suitcase we're going back, we've got a table booked tomorrow for your birthday" "I'm not going." I think it's because her shoes don't fit - don't ask. So, thinking on feet, we decide to go to a place called Ironbridge in Shropshire and have an afternoon out. We go to a quintessentially English Tea Room opposite the Iron Bridge and have Tea and Scones 2 . So there we are, sitting in glorious sunshine sipping English Breakfast Tea and eating possibly the

I've been driving for some 34 years and it's only when you start to teach people to drive that you realise it's not actually a natural thing to do. My own experiences being lost to a few distant memories such as:- "Err, I suggest you don't run into that parked car" "Stop looking at the motor bikes and watch the road!" and, in response to my "It's impossible to reverse around that corner!" was "Get out, shut up, and stand there while I do it" - thanks Dad. Anyway, daughter is doing Ok. But I realised what I was up against when I had to tell her to "straighten up" after telling her to turn left. Fortunately, the kerb isn't that high just there...

So that's it then. After 27½ years I sold my Arkley to a guy who is going to "do it up" and drive it. Sad? Yup.

Y'know, it's strange how you feel. The bungalow was sold and yet I needed to know everything was OK. By a strange coincidence, I had some papers (old guarantees etc) for historical purposes that I needed to pop through the letter box. I went round and the new owner was outside. "Hi, I'd like to thank you for leaving the place in such good condition and everything. This place is just what I want - everything is just great!" Now that's what I needed to know. On a different note. I went round to the solicitors. "Um, can I have my money please?" "Certainly, please sign your life away here" Hang on, it's says here "Interest £60" - I knew they were crooks. "Err, no" says the wife, "that's what they're giving you, that's a weeks worth of interest gained while they had the money in their account." Oops. Do I owe anyone an apology?

Eeek. I am just starting to teach my daughter to drive. I now understand why Americans favour automatic gearboxes.

The bungalow passed peacefully into new owners on 1st September 2006. But - solicitors are really something aren't they? As a parting shot the following conversation occured: "Hello, when can I collect the cash?" "We have to pay the estate agents first and then take our fee." "Ok, do that and then when I collect the cash?" "Ah, well, as it's capital transfer to more than one legacee we have to get written letters of approval from all parties." "Eh? Where's that written down then? I'm the sole executor, so just write a damn cheque to me - I'll do the necessary distribution!" ...and without drawing breath he came back with... "Oh, if that's what you want I'll do that". So, while I'm getting "letters of approval" this dosh is merrily sitting in their account gathering interest. Surely not.

After waiting for a second load of parts 1 to arrive from the States I rang up Dave the Air-Con bloke. "Hello, I've got my bits for the aircon." "I'll ring you tomorrow morning after I've done all my jobs" (night passes and it's now 8:10am) "Hello can you come round now" (Eeek, how early does this guy get up?) (time passes to 11:30am) "Hello, it's all done". Now that folks is service... 1 That'll be the discharge line and liquid line. Guess what? The Ford Dealer in Detroit was right about the orifice tube. Spooky

I now fully understand teenagers... I could never work out why "bad" meant "good" and "wicked" and etc etc. However, having spent the last week on a liner in the Mediterranean Sea I now know that "swell" really means "bad"... These cruises are an overeater's paradise. You really can eat 24/7 if you want to - the restaurants running consecutively from breakfast -> mid-morning snack -> lunch -> afternoon tea -> dinner -> evening buffet -> late night pizzas and back to breakfast again. I felt like a Hobbit; particularly as the cabin was small, comfortable and with a round window. The ship weighs 33,930 tonnes and take 1300 passengers and 500 crew. The passengers accounting for some 20,000 tonnes. I now know who eats all the pies.

Cynical old me was right. Vodafone "A" does not know what Vodafone "B" is up to. It transpires that "A" gave "B" (actually some third party merchant) the details of all people who were/are due for an upgrade. So "B" (Sam in Stourbridge) was merely doing her job. Hey ho. "Yes, that's right, we're a third-party merchant with all your details" "How's that in line with the Data Protection Act 1984 (later 1998) then?" (click)

(ring)(ring) "This is your solicitors here, 'they' want to complete on the 1st September, not the 8th as we definitely agreed before" "Eeek"

Whoa! Just got a call from the/my solicitors saying that "they" want to complete on the 8th September. So barring a major catastrophe, 8 months from a very hesistant January start to then doesn't seem to be too bad from what I can gather. Also, part of the sale was the contents of the bungalow. This means that I don't have to pay someone to clear the it and, more emotively, I feel that the future imcumbent will get some use from the furniture. As I understand it, House Clearance people often just destroy the stuff anyway. Here: "What's this Bill?" "It's a ming vase" "What's that then?" "Dunno" (smash)++1; Goto Here

(ring)(ring)(ring) Actually, it was the theme from "The Persuaders" but I can't spell that. "Hello" "Hello, you haven't had your phone upgraded for a while have you?" Long conversation ensues between the Wife and "Sam" from Vodafone, and a new package/phone deal is established. "Can I have your bank details to pay the one off £30 pound for the upgrade?" "Yes" "Can I have you date of birth for 'security purposes'?" "Yes" "Can I have the three digits off the back of your card?" "Yes" "Can I have every other possible detail that I might need to know?" "Yes" "Err, shouldn't they know all that?" I asked "Oh." "Maybe you should ring Vodafone back and see what 'phone' they are going to give you?" Long conversation the next morning with some other chap in Vodafone who had absolutely no knowledge about "Sam"

...that'll be "more about the hedgehogs" rather than an increase in Hedgehog population you understand. We haven't seen them for a while so naturally assumed that Mother Nature has run her course and Mother Hedgehog had had a quiet word with the little ones. "It's about time you lot left home, go and find your own slugs. I'm sick of fetching and carrying for you ungrateful lot..." (Hmm, where have I heard that before?) There I was cleaning up various dead vegetation from the greenhouse and picked up a plastic bag full of old, but clean, towels that were destined for "car things". "Bugger! That hurt!" Well, I suppose a pile of fresh clean towels is a much better prospect in Hedgehog City that a pile of damp leaves isn't it?

Y'know when something just doesn't feel right? Well, something hasn't felt right with the Mustang for ages - it's just that I couldn't put my finger on it. I don't drive it very fast as I only poodle around town to and from work which is not far away. However, last night was different - I went to beach about 25 miles away and really hacked it down the motorway (freeway 1 )... and it wasn't right . "What are you doing this morning?" "Err, car things, my dear...." (time passes as plugs are removed and compression checked) I'm not that stupid, contrary to some people's opinion, so as I removed the plug leads (wires) I marked them up 1 to 8. However when putting them back I decided to check the manual to see what it thought about the positions. The upshot of it was is that I had numbers 3 & 4 swapped, and the sad thing is, is that I have no idea how long they've been like that. "It sounds much better" commented my

A quick catch up: As far as I know the Gas man, armed with a large hammer & chisel and protected by The Sweeney, did not turn up and cut the gas off. In fact, I did actually receive a re-issued bill which states that they owe me £7.82. Maybe Neil Armstrong was right - "That's one small step for Man, one giant leap for gaskind".

There I was staring at a blank wall (both work colleagues on holiday) when the phone goes. "Hello, it's the Estate Agents again" "And?" "Well, the chain of people want to exchange as soon as possible" "Right, so that'll be next Ash Wednesday then if the Solicitors have anything to do with it" "Err, no. They want to get a date at the end of August" "What this year?" Bugger. Now here's a choice: Do I take my holiday which is booked 19th August - 3rd September? Or, do I pass "Go" and collect £187,000? Touch choice.

Hmmm, maybe we have a problem Houston. Ok, Dallas, but you can see where this is going. My aircon bloke who's fixing the Mustang rings me up: "Err, where does this orifice tube go?" "Dunno, you're the expert. According to all my research it goes 'somewhere near the firewall' in some tube or other" "Nope, no way can that fit in there" (ring)(ring) "Hello Dallas Mustang, where does the orifice tube go?" "In the drier" (click) ....call back a/c chap. "Nope, can't possibly go there it's too large for the hole. I think it goes in the liquid line, that's why there's a crimp in the line and that's why I can't blow it through with nitrogen, and, your liquid line is so shagged that even if we were to get one of those Motorcraft repair kits, we couldn't use it anyway. You need a new line" (ring)(ring) "Hello DM. This is what my a/c bloke says...." "I've been doing Foxes for

Well, the air-conditioning stuff turned up yesterday from the "States" in a *huge* box that weighed a ton. Ok, it was 18kgs actually - that's, err, 39.6 lbs for older people - about 3 stones in real money, no wonder they charged me the price of a child's airline ticket to send it over... Having messed them about by adding bits to the order it arrived in about 4 days from Texas. I can strongly recommend Dallas Mustang - nice guys and very knowledgeable. Let's see whether anyone over here can fit it.

(ring)(ring) "Hello" "Hello, this is the Estate Agent telling you that everything's going swimmingly well with your bungalow sale. Thanks, bye" What? You mean they actually rang me up without prompting to tell me there's nothing wrong? This wouldn't be anything to do with me just possibly querying their fee would it? Surely not.

Now something they don't tell you about until you're committed for the CT scan (i.e. lying there with your head in a big whirly pencil sharpener thing is that they will inject some "dye" into your arm. This is after you've spent the last hour drinking a litre of some muck that tastes remarkably like Pernod or Ricard (and, no, after the second glass you really are fed up with it). Ok, maybe you don't mind a cannula in your arm 'cos it really doesn't hurt if they get it right, but then they drop in that you may get a strange warm feeling "all over". "Ok, carry on then" (as if I actually had a choice by then). "Just a small scratch" (again old joke about when I went to the Vets - sorry clinic - so have some important bits "snipped") "Oooh, that is a strange feeling..." And then the best bit... "You might feel as if you've wet yourself" and then they rush off behind a bullet-proof screen befo

Back to why this blog started off. Having agreed a price, I get a letter from my solicitor regarding the sale of the bungalow. This is in the form of a "tick box" style questionnaire, in two sections. The first part is asking you very interesting questions about boundaries, disputes, access and the like. Of course, if you've never lived there and are "executing" the property the chances are that you don't know any of the answers. So, here's the piece of advice on this one: When asked to be an executor make sure you ask the person, before they err, 'depart', about such things as "who owns the fence at the back?", "is it a shared driveway?", "Has the neighbour got access to paint his fence?". Probably a good idea to go to the solicitor and have a look at the form and discuss it. The second part is about the sale of the house. Which is basically "What are you leaving?", "What are you taking?" and, s

1 There 750,000 hedgehogs in Britain. Well, no. There are 750,00 3 hedgehogs in Britain. The other 3 are alive and well in my garden. We always knew the adult (now known as Gertrude, thanks to my daughter) was there. She would come out at dusk and do her normal patrol around the garden and then disappear off out of the gate. However, the other day we heard a squeaking sound. "Oh for heaven's sake. The budgie-woman-next-door has let the dog out and it's playing with that damn plastic bone again". A few minutes of investigation later... "Ah. That'll be a baby hedgehog then crying for its mum." It had fallen out of the flower bed and couldn't get back up. "Let's feed it some cat food and put it back in the nest" says the wife. "You can't do that, because it'll tell its friends and we'll have 750,000 hedgehogs lined up outside the door in a threatening manner all demanding cat food. Not only that, we'll have Bill Oddie

Ellen went for her second lot of chemo yesterday at Maidstone Hospital. "Hello, I'm here" "Err, we haven't got any beds, go away" "What about this empty pump attached to me?" They took it out and sent her home. Shakes head in disbelief.

You couldn't make this up:- 'The letters dropped on to the mat with that all to familiar thud. Excitedly he opened up the letter marked 'Urgent'. He read the large red letters with dismay: '...We are going to break into your house, with Police presence and cut you off. We have charged you £10. We will charge you £230 to fit a pre-pay meter. We will charge you £30 for the visit'... ' Oh good(!). So the 40 minute calls to Miss a, b and bloody c did a lot of good then. I called Saturn again and spoke to Miss AlphaCenturi. "Hello, now I'm really cross. Are you lot really stupid or do you get trained in it? If you break into my house I'll sue you for criminal damage." To be fair, she kept very calm. I guess she's done this before. "Don't worry, we're changing to a new system, it hasn't caught up yet" "So when my double-glazed front door is lying on the mat in a thousand pieces it'll be 'ok' because '

..."Better a quack than a Ducky!" From that marvellous episode with "Bob". Anyway, there I was sitting in a hospital bed on the hottest day (19th July) of "all time" (at least since July 1911) and the nurse comes in to ask me to "get ready" for the "procedure". "Take all your clothes off and put on this gown. You can leave you pants on, we don't need to fiddle with those bits!" The whole thing is kinda stressful, 'cos you don't know what they're going to find. The episode was lightened somewhat by the Sister/Anaesthetist double-act who were making everyone smile with their genuine wit - sadly "this sedation has an amnesia effect" and I can't remember much - so no change there then. All I do remember is thinking "Gad, My life is in the hands of Laurel and Hardy . After it was all over, the Doc tells me that he can't find anything wrong with my throat & stomach and needs to do a CT Scan

Why a second part you ask? I've had an on-going, err, conversation with British Gas (or Miss Bash as my Dad once said when they rang him up once - he was a bit mutton was my Dad). It all started with a bill for the Bungalow Gas for Quarter One of £200 based on an estimated reading. This I paid 'cos "It'll all get sorted out when you give us an accurate reading". "Hello, here's my accurate reading" Letter: "You owe us £160 for Quarter Two based on an estimated reading" Now, before I go on, remember that ringing up Miss Bash is like having a conversation with someone who is currently in orbit around Saturn. There's a 20 - 30 minute delay each time you ring 'em up and wait in the "queue" listening to good advice like "Please light the gas once you turn it on", and "Please don't stick your head in the oven" (I know why they add that one). Not to mention the time(s) that the damn battery in the phone fai

Well, after a certain amount of to-ing & fro-ing, the Estate Agent and I have agreed that the asking price of £199k for the bungalow is "about right". The current market situation is that houses are selling for about 5-10% below the asking price, which in my case would be £179k - £189k, so I've accepted a price of £187k. Remember the "Estate Agent Fee" scam? Well, having now spoken to someone sensible, we've agreed a fee of 2¼% of the selling price - which is high, but not too ridiculous. Now this is "plus VAT" as well. And, there's the solicitor's fee of about £800 to pay as well - this is for them doing nothing you understand. Note too, that this is all subject to survey and there's "many a slip 'twixt cup and lip". So, smile, but don't hold your breath (yet).

Hmm. Need this post to get things up to date. Ellen is responding to her first lot of chemo - which is brilliant news. There is of course a long journey ahead of her. We'll be there. Son #1. Right. He lost his job. "Ok, employees, if you're sick you must ring in yourself and not get someone else to do it". He went sick. "'Ere, my workmate, please tell 'em I'm sick". "You've lost your job". "Eh. Why?". The Mustang is in for a small repair and I'm driving the old AX which was MOT'd in March. It has no front tyres, the pads are on the backing and the driveshafts are shagged. Who drove it last? Son #1. That's his lot. If anyone remembers "The Jazz Singer" (with Neil Diamond, not Al Jolson) then you'll know what I mean. E7even demise. So far, (sle)eezyDSL have been OK. Got my website back and normal service has been resumed it would appear. I went for a hospital to see why I have a mysterious pain unde

B*ll*x. My air conditioning compressor on the Mustang has just gone t/u on Sunday whilst sitting in a jam on the M25. "Anybody it got a spare compressor, hands up please!" ... "Ok, hands up in the air " ... "Ok, hands up if anyone in England has got a compressor" Dramatic pause as the tumbleweed gently rolls across the scenery and the wind whistles softly over the fields. "Hello Mr Ford dealer, can you cross-reference the base part number please?" "I'll give it a go" "Oh look, it comes up with 12 pages, Modeo, Ka, Fiesta..." "Yeah, but they're not the same" "Eh?" Answers on a postcard.

After her first course of chemo last week, Ellen has reported that some of the lumps on her body have reduced in size. This is a small, but encouraging, development. Also, nice to report that her family have all rallied round and there's often someone from her family around giving support and help to her and her husband.

Now here's what happened. My son gets a job and manages to pay for his insurance of his AX GT. "What are you going to do with the red AX?" "You can have it" Ok, my daughter is going to start driving soon so I pass the car onto her. "Can I have the keys to move it round so I can Hoover it out?" "Err, no, you've no license or insurance, I'll do it in 5 minutes after Doctor Who has finished." ...4 minutes and 50 seconds pass... "Help! Come quick, Mum has crashed the car into the fence post 1 !" "Is the post OK?" "Yes" "Have a nice day" "It's that car - it's rubbish..." Now, I for one, get into a strange car and check the pedal positions, brake effort and steering before moving off - don't you? Now I know where he gets it from. 1 This was the concrete post that I replaced at great effort after breaking it a year ago by reversing the Espace into it. Strangely enough, the post sn

So, this guy eventually comes in with a ridiculous offer of £182k (asking £199k) and won't increase the offer. So you're not going to get it then, are you? Quote E/E: "So we'll carry on marketing the property" "What, you mean you stopped?"

So, my ISP has just gone out of business. To continue I was "forced" (by re-direction) to sign up to someone masquerading under the Tiscali banner - EzeeDSL

Ellen had her first lot of chemo on Wednesday. And, not surprisingly, is feeling extrememly rough. Her husband is being pretty negative all-in-all. Statements like "So, this is it, she's going to die 1 " were heard. It was up to my wife to go over and sit with her last night, and try to convince said husband that they wouldn't spend the money on therapy if they didn't think it was going to work. Whether or not that is the case, I have no idea, but it seemed to work and he perked up somewhat. We can only wait, watch and pray. 1 Normally, I delight in (mis)quoting The Hitch Hiker's Guide, but not in this case.

Now, by law, Estate Agents have to pass on any offer. "Hello, the chap who came to see your bungalow on Wednesday has made an offer! What do you think about that?" "Look, cut the crap, just get on with it" "He put in an offer of £175k" "So this is the bloke who's desperate to find somewhere because he's sold his house?" "Yes" "...and my bungalow is in perfect condition?" "Yes" "...and it's full of G-Plan and Schreiber furniture?" "Yes" "That'll be a 'No' then."

Well, the silence from yesterday's supposed viewing is deafening. However, she rang me up this morning with some old twadlle about the World Cup causing the housing market to slow down and they were running a "promotion" in the office and were asking all sellers if they minded reducing their prices by 7% ! What?! Are you mad? Sorry, a "promotion" is something run by a company to flog their product, not something that seems a good idea but won't actually cost them a bean. I suppose the fee charged by them won't reduce by 7% as well will it?

I had a phone call from the Estate Agents yesterday. 'parently, some bloke is coming to see it for the second time tomorrow and is "very interested". Ok, heard that before, but this seems different this time. He has just sold his house and needs to buy another fairly pronto. He is only interested because the price has come down to a more reasonable level. I've also indicated that any buyer can have all the furniture and so on that's in the house. Why didn't they just get it right in the first place? Watch this space...

So here I am, sitting alone on a Friday afternoon in the Rabbit Hutch - sorry Testing Hut. For the past month I've been testing a new European-wide order/manufacturing (MRP? possibly) system in a team of about 20 people from all over Europe. It's based on SAP but with bits added to link up to a specialised planning system and into the factory manufacturing systems. For the past month I've been a great critic of the way it works, the way it's been planned, the way integration/testing/acceptance has been done. "We can't possibly go live with all the faults" I've been saying, "It's not stable enough", "there's been too much 'fudging' going on" & etc ad nauseam. Ok, to be honest, these have been my private views and I haven't actually put my head over the parapet - I've just got on with what I've been asked to do. Anyway, today at the "wrap-up" after Acceptance Testing, the Project Manager asked

I'm not normally vindictive - but I hope someone gets sacked for this. Ellen caught a chest infection and called "the doctor" (no caps, that's far too nice) and she (MD) asked: "Are you allergic to anything?" "Yes, I get a violent reaction to penicillin" "Ok, take these then" Fortunately her sister was on the ball and took a look at the spray thing she'd just been given - Amoxicillin (take a look at http://www.drugs.com/amoxicillin.html) Next day Ellen was throwing up the pain relief tablets that she had got from the Hospice nurse and asked for a prescription that could help. The nurse said she would get the doctor to sign a prescription. "It'll be at the doctors in a few hours" (ring ring) "Hello, is my prescription ready?" "Who are you then?" Funnily enough, not the Hospice Nurses fault. This "doctor" needs nailing to a tree.

To try to explain what today was about would take several pages of A4. So, suffice to say "Never, ever work with the Finnish." These guys communicate with telepathy (have you ever listened to an interview with Mika Hakkinen?) "Well Mika, you won. Tell us about the race" "Yes, wewentfastandcameinfirst" The Finnish contingent go mad knowing exactly how the race panned out, what nuances were used in the strategy and precisely what he is going to have for tea tonight. Obviously, I was to know that they were using a different messaging system to the one I had programmed and how dare I suggest that my protocols had in fact been agreed in writing by all participants not some 4 years ago. Now, I don't speak Finnish, so technical English is probably a bit difficult for non-native English, but I reckon "Use papiNET version 1.1" isn't that difficult. Tomorrow I think I'll try:- "Dontbloodywelleditthedefinitionfile"

(Ring)(Ring)(Ring) "Hello?" "Someone has viewed your bungalow and is very interested in it" "Oh good(!)" "But they're having trouble with finances and can only raise £170k, what shall I tell them?" "Are you serious?" "Oh yes, we have to tell you about every offer" "Even the most ridiculous ones?" "Yes, it's in the Estate Agents Act 1979" "Is that the same act that says 'you must be open and honest with your client'?" "Ah." (Click, burrrr...)

I now found out that Ellen (my neighbour) has at least 4 secondary cancers. Not that this helps at all but she went to the doctors last October with reflux (acid indigestion) and they kept saying "just keep taking antacid tablets" even though she eventually couldn't eat. "But what about this lump on my neck?" "It'a a virus, don't worry about it" (no, really) It was the local nurse who, having seen her for the first time, went harpic and made the doctors do a blood test and spotted the primary oesophageal tumour. Sadly, she's got worse over the last week.

I was attempting to get my teenage daughter to start her own blog as her English language and imagination are pretty good. "Why don't you start a blog?" "Because all my friends have one and mine would simply be clones of theirs." "Ah. What did you say you wanted to be when you grew up? "A management consultant" BTW: My eldest son has now spent a fortnight in his new job...

OMG. I've just found out that my neigbour and best friend has cancer.

Gad, don't ya lurv the Internet? Last Friday, my 10 year old video recorder went T/U and the head failed (I think, never mind, any excuse). Now, I'm off to see Mom in Wolverhampton over the weekend and will therefore miss Doctor Who - and we can't have that can we? So armed with some money left over from the Aunt's Inheritance I trot off to my local Currys Electrical store to see what they've got. After much avoidance of "The Vamp" (different story and will be told sometime) I get someone who actually knows what they're on about and I eventually buy a "LiteON LVW-1106HC+" DVD recorder. "Hi I want to buy a DVD recorder please" "Which one?" "I was looking at the cheaper end of the market, what's wrong with, say, this Goodmans?" "They're crap mate" So I choose the silver fronted (on-offer-for-£20-less-that-the-black-one) LiteON. I get it home and find the box contains the black fronted one - result

Well, my eldest son finally got of his a*** and went knocking doors on the local industrial estate to see of anyone had a job. And, amazingly enough, he got one. Ok, it's "pressing a button on a machine", but it's work with some prospects - he can go out with a fitter later. Which just goes to show that there's no excuse for able-bodied people not to try. He's only been at work for a day so far so we'll see how long before the bubble bursts and he jacks it all in "coz i'm bored". However, so far, I'm quite proud of him - but don't tell him I said that will you?

...or even "The Green Machine". Well, after having it stuck on my driveway since last October, I got it MOT'd this morning having put on a new exhaust and two tyres. So, quite pleased. I'll post a picture later when I can get one sorted. Considering my son paid £17 for it (actually it was £20 really) it's quite a nice motor. "How much for the GT mate?" "100 quid" (long haggle ensues, including "Are you kidding, it's Lime Green", "Actually it's Kawasaki Bike Green") "Oh, alright 20 quid then" (lots of cleaning out and removing extraneous wiring later) "Oh, look here's 3 quid under the seats". "Oh good(!), that'll pay for the new exhaust and tyres then."

Nows here's an interesting little link:- http://www.oft.gov.uk/Business/Legal/Estate/default.htm which is the Plain English version of the Estate Agents Act 1979. And, here's the first sentence:- The Estate Agents Act 1979 regulates your work as an estate agent. Its purpose is to make sure that you act in the best interests of your clients, and that both buyers and sellers are treated honestly, fairly and promptly. Interesting.

Now call me cynical if you want, but I think I've just fallen foul of the "Estate Agent Scam". Briefly it's like this:- You ask them to put the house on the market and they say it's (e.g.) 2% of the price. They say the house is worth (an inflated) £250k and therefore their fee is £5k. So you agree for them to sell it 'cos that's a lot more than you expected the house is worth. You sign an agreement which says "I agree to pay you £5,000 on sale". Now, a small time later, they say "Oh, it's not had any interest, how about reducing the price to a more realistic £200k?" - but, and here's the catch, there's no mention about reducing the fee because you signed an agreement for a fixed £5,000 not 2% of the selling price . I've checked with them and this is the case it's a fixed fee based on the original asking price which they put on in the first place. In my case, this was not made clear and we spoke about percentages

After a hard day at the office, my son came home moaning that he "carnt git a job". He has 7 GCE's (or "O" Levels as we used to know them as). Not surprisngly, in this economic climate, no one wants a sulky 19 year old with no qualifications. So the warning, from someone who's been there, is:- 'For Heaven's sake, listen to your parents and stay on at school and get the best grades you can' But you knew that didn't you? Seen on the back of a white van:- "Hire a teenager while they still know everything"

Now call me naive or something, but when someone says that they will do something, I generally expect them to do it. The agents with whom I have the bungalow for sale with said they would contact me every 14 days to tell me how things are going. They of course, haven't. So here's the advice for what it's worth. You have to keep on at them, not vice-versa. Logically, if you're paying them to do a job for you so you would expect that they did it. Hey-ho. The excuse given was "It's nearly Summer and we're getting very busy." So, what decision did they make to not do my job and do someone elses instead? I've added the picture of the bungalow by linking to their website. Let's pinch their bandwidth...

Having failed to give away the table to charity last week, I suggested that I should put it on eBay for a start of £2 and promised to throw it away if no one bought it. I also put a "Buy-It-Now" of £10 on for fun. Guess what? Postage is a bit hard for a table + 4 chairs so I said I'd deliver locally if required. The very nice lady who bought it asked me to deliver and I said I'd do it for £6. Driving down I felt guilty and was going to ask for a fiver. "Thanks very much, here's £10 for delivery" "I haven't got any change" "No, I was going to give you that anyway"

20 budgies packed up in a crate and taken to Budgie Heaven - well, somewhere else anyway. "Thank God they're gone, I was contemplating suicide" "There's no need for that, why should you want to do that?" "No, not mine, hers." I had run a whole bunch of "Tweet-away" scenarios. Including a small explosive device positioned approximately 3 feet from ground level with its blast pattern due west. I must admit to not having completely run that one through all possible conclusions... If Anti-Terrorist-Branch Then ' Nope - not sure what to do here End If (Note, no budgies have been harmed in the making of this blog)

After a long conversation about dead parents and bad moods, my neighbour (with the budgies) asked if it would be alright to remove 20 budgies and leave just 6 in her aviary. 26 budgies in a cage the size of a small wardrobe! No bloody wonder the poor buggers are fighting for perch space all the time. We'll just see how it goes - hopefully they'll settle down to a nice gentle chiruppy pace of life. Ok. Different subject. We tried giving away a nice dining room table and chairs over the weekend to the British Heart Foundation. "Hi, wanna a nice table?" "Got any chairs with it?" "Yup" "Upholstered?" "Yup" "No then. We can't accept stuff that not British Standard Fire Tested." "Ok, we'll go and take it down the tip for landfill then..."

For the past four years I have been plagued by my neighbours aviary which is full of budgies. It's approx 7 feet at the nearest distance to my house, and about 15 feet from my bedroom. During waking hours the little ****** squawk and fight and generally drive me insane. So much so, that we can't use our patio anymore because of the noise - and we can't keep any windows open during the summer 'cos they wake us up at dawn. I finally plucked up courage and told her that I was unhappy about this. "Well your son wakes me up when he comes in at night." "Sorry that my teenager has got a job and car - perhaps he should sign on the dole and you can support him?" Do my children keep you p***** off during daylight hours, day in day out, 24/7? No. So f*** off then. Gad I feel better for that.

I actually got a phone call yesterday about the bungalow. Not much, but interest nonetheless. More good news - the water company volunteered to refund the water charges from November 2005 on the grounds that the property was empty from then.

Sometimes you have a nagging feeling that you're forgetting something. Mine was last night about the tax on the Mustang. Yup, DVLA says it ran out at the end of March. Okey dokey, go to "Tax Vehicle Online" and armed with logbook, MOT and credit card I enter the 97 digits required (slight exaggeration to prove point). "Ah ha" it says, you can't do this here - go to the Post Office. No, I'll ring up instead - 10 minutes and 66 menu levels later I get through to a very nice advisor who explains that due to "The Budget" change most of the vehicle records are in the process of being updated - go to the Post Office instead she says. "But how will they know how much to charge? If I can't tax it via you guys, the local Post Office has got no chance!" "Oh no, their computers are updated the day after the Budget..."

Back to executing: I think I mentioned Council Tax already, but water rates must be dealt with too! Nasty shock to have a bill land on the mat for several hundred pounds. If the property is empty, then they can cut the water off and you won't pay a penny. If you do get the water turned off make sure that the heating system doesn't require water. I left the heating on low to prevent the house freezing over the winter - it's hot air only so no bother. You soon find out stuff like this when the financial year ends around March/April. I wonder if anything else will turn up? Also, for the benefit of the neighbours and potential buyers, I found a gardener to keep the exterior of the property tidy. "Hi, can you cut the grass please?" "How often?" "When small dogs get lost in it."

Did you know that brake linings come off the metal backing if the car's been stood in a field for 8 months with the handbrake on? No? You do now. Fortunately, my son was driving quite slowly when the back offside brake locked up solid on the AX. Another question: How do you get the brake drum off when it is actually locked solid? Answer: By ingenious use of a 30 year old Matchless motorcyle clutch puller bolted on using the wheel studs. And today's star question: How do you manage to get away with spending your 23rd wedding aniversary under a car? See above.

Jeez, teenage sons. Having had some twat reverse into him on a roundabout and total the front, coupled with a blown heater matrix, we decided it was cheaper to buy another AX than repair the old one. Ok, go on eBay (again) and win a nice 1996 AX. Trouble was it was 298 miles away in the north of Blighty. Now when you a have a plan, you stick to it, don't you? So plan is to drive up to Durham at 2:00am and get there for about 8:00am so that we can fix anything and drive back by 5:00pm so son can go to work. I didn't bank on the daughter having *serious* pains in the stomach which required an ambulance at midnight Thursday. "My stomach hurts" ...stalling tactics, including "...take an aspirin", 45 minutes later, "OK, I'll call an ambulance" Nurse: "Your vital signs are just tickety-boo. Take a seat and wait" ...time passes 'till 4:00am. Nurse: "You're next" "Oh, I feel fine now" Get home to sleep at about 5:1

Having gone into raptures previously about scooping an Ermscher Astra I now find that the only "Ermscher" bit about it is the badge on the back - about £3 off eBay. Oh well. "Hi Mr Garageman, can you adjust my headlights please?" "Oh that's a nice Astra - that's worth about £3,903 with the badge according to Parkers. How much did you pay?" "...about £3,900." "That's good then."

So that's it then. I've flogged the Rover for £215 (a bargain) to a bloke on eBay. I've bought a "new" Astra to replace it for a hell of a lot more! Not impressed travelling to Derby to pick it up - 4 separate train journeys and 7 hours. Well, it serves me right for not reading the ticket - if it says your seat is reserved at 12:00 then don't expect to get the 10 o'clock train! No wonder the underground ticket wouldn't let me through the barriers at 09:30. BTW: If you're prone to sea-sickness then the Midland Mainline is NOT for you... Very impressed though. When I get there I find it's the Irmscher variant AND it had a new engine at 31,000 miles - neither of which was mentioned in the auction. Where I picked it up from was near a station north of Derby called Duffield. It has two slabs of concrete laughingly referred to as a platform; and a bridge - the end of which drops you into an MOT station. "Where's the waiting room?" "

Ok, here's a question. What happens if you lose water from an engine and then top it up? Answer: You have clean(ish) water in the system. Fair enough, except that if you then leave it overnight at -2 °C it has the potential to freeze because you've forgotten to add any anti-freeze. I think I got away with it - major panic tho' because someone has already bid over the reserve for it on eBay. "Hello, I've come to pick up the Rover I won on eBay. What's this all over the floor?" "That'll be the engine."

Bugger. Now I know why Rover went out of business:- "Hello dear, have you had a nice day? My car's making a funny noise" "That'll be the "K" series twin-cam blowing a head gasket then" "How much is the car worth?" "£600" "How much to fix it?" "£600.01" "Ah." For those interested people, put "Rover 416" into eBay and see how many come up with "...head gasket failed...". I also now know why people call their canines "Rover". BTW: Anyone know how to clean oil emulsion off a concrete driveway?

After an abortive start, DHL managed to pick up the laptop today. Phone call earlier today:- "'Ere Mr DHL, you haven't picked up my parcel" "Don't no nuffin about that mate - better ring InterParcel" (click) "Hello Interparcel DHL 'don't no nuffin'' about my parcel" "Yes they do, here's the tracking number sir - we'll sort it out" Very impressed with these InterParcel people I am. Also, got "the" phone call from the Estate Agent:- "You're property isn't attracting much attention, we really think you should consider reducing the price to £210k" "Is this the same £210k I suggested at the beginning of January?" "err, probably." (click)

Well, the laptop sold - except that a chap in Spain bought it. Not surprisingly, it cost more in postage than the original selling price. Now here's a thing to remember - if you print address labels on a bubble jet and take the package out in the snow the result is something like a Dali painting. Ok, I was ahead of that one and lightly wrapped the package in Clingfilm to protect the printing. "Mornin' Ian, can I leave this package here in the stores for the courier to pick up please?" "Crikey, that looks like something out of the canteen." "Yes, but this crust is probably softer." Also, eventually got in touch with the Estate Agents:- "Why didn't you say I had to bring in ID? Isn't that something to tell people when they first start off with you?" "Yes sir, I'll take that on board." "Eh? You agree with me?" "Yes" "Err ok then, how about popping four doors down the road to my solicitors and ge

Good grief. We come back from shopping to find the situation of one cat sitting in her normal position on top of the sofa and the other fat thing in his normal position asleep with his head in the cat bowl. I sit down only to be growled at by the black and white one on the sofa. Unusual. To cut a long story short, she is walking with one back leg in the air, mewing and growling in obvious pain. Ring vet. "Hello, my cat is in obvious pain, can you take a look" "Yup, what the name?" "Bonnie" "No, your name" We exhange details, the parting shot being, "Certainly, that's £69 before we start, as it's a Sunday and we can take you to the cleaners because this is an emergency service." Ok, wife & her (visiting) sister whip the cat off to the vets whilst I pick up the daughter from her Sunday job. I get back and carry on with the dinner. Wife+sis come back with sis-in-law in tears. "Oh, s**t, we have to had the cat put down?&qu

Opens letter: "Under the Money Laundering Act May 2004 you are required to bring in ID just in case we think you've stolen your Aunt's house". Oh good. So you've known for 5 weeks that you're selling the house and when you got me to sign the contract mid Jan you "forgot" about this one. You want me to drive 200 miles to sign a piece of paper. No, I dont' think so. Lets see if this will work. "Ok, you pop next door to my solicitors and get them to "validate" me. After all, they've seen my ID when I picked up the will AND they've got the original probate. Then you can post me the document for me to sign." Oink. Flap. Oink. Flap. Oh yeah, the identical house next door is up for sale too at 20k less than mine. Did I mention they can't use email?

Hmm. Where has eBay gone? Just spent the last decade trying to put an ad onto eBay using "Turbo Lister" to find that I can get to the eBay home page and then nowhere else. The rest of the "web" seems just tickety-boo. Ok, did a quick scan to see if it's eBay or my ISP and find a rumour that E7even (my ISP, now E7broadband) is about to go T/U. Well, to be fair, the rumour said it was "in administration". Still, my ADSL connection works, my email works and my web site works - so far so good then. Rumour also says that Tiscali are taking over the e7 accounts - which Tiscali apparently know nothing about; Hmm, just like the place I work for. "Hello, Mr Right Hand, over here" "Who are you then?" Anyone want to buy a nice laptop?

After spending a few very frustrating hours trying to use FTP to get my web-site published I thought I'd show off a bit and link to my Crib game:- Crib1999.Zip . Simply click the link and unzip. You'll need the Visual Basic 5 runtime modules from here:- VB5 runtime modules . BTW: If you find your way to my web-site, don't hold your breath.

Whey hey! 364 hits for the house on the website and 11 requests for details. OK, so the Agent's average is 469 & 16, but it's start. (BTW: 10 of those hits are mine...) "If we've had no viewings in the next fortnight, then maybe we should consider reducing the price." Hang on, it was you who put the price so damn high in the first place and now you're making it out like it my fault... "Please can you email me those stats?" "Sorry, we don't have the facility to do that here." "Eh?" Did I mention I was a programmer?

...Ok, sell the house, split the cash between the legacees and Bob's your Aunty - were it that simple? Nope. Get the solicitor who holds the deeds to act for you for conveyancing - that's easy. Find an agent to sell the house - easy too. Find a buyer? - ha. "Don't worry sir, houses in this exclusive area sell like hot cakes. They only come onto the market through probate or nursing homes..." "Ok," I says, "price it at £210k then for a quick sale" "Oh no sir, we'll price it at £25k above next door so we can screw you for a much commission as we can" "How do you work that out then?" "If it's too low, people will think that there's something wrong with it." Good grief, I'm glad I'm a programmer.

My good friend goes into hospital tomorrow for major surgery. I wish her & her husband all the best. http://www.warpedwoman.blogspot.com/

One of the forms you may want to complete is a cut-down version of a tax return. This allows you to get a refund of any income tax that may have been overpaid. Give the IR a ring or have a look on their website for the form. My Aunt was extremely organised - she dutifully did her normal tax returns. I guess that if this isn't the case you would have to sort all that out...

Once you have probate, go and open an "executors account" at the bank. This is because any monies paid from closed accounts will generally be payable to "Mr (name) executor for (deceased)". Not all institutions do this - the National Savings paid me directly because "the amount was below £5,000". A separate account is very useful anyway as it's easier to distribute the estate to the legacees - and prove that it's been done correctly. From my Aunt's demise on Rememberance Sunday 2005 to me receiving probate on Christmas Eve is of course much shorter than the solicitor's "oh, it'll take at least 6 months"! Not that I'm cynical you understand, but do the solicitors sell the house etc and pocket £1/4m that sits gathering interest in their accounts? Surely not.

OK. Getting probate*. Get/find the will - it's either with the solicitor or hidden in a cupboard/under the mattress. Then you should identify ALL sources of savings/income - current balances of bank accounts, savings and the like. You also get the house valued. This will give you a value to declare on the probate form. To get the valuation of accounts, you will need to prove who you are and that you are the exector stated in the will... ...find an up-to-date utility bill of YOURS (you need this to prove who you are) and any other forms of identity as required. Get the leaflet on this from a solicitor and ring the Law Society to get the necessary forms. If the estate isn't going to exceed the current level of inheritance tax then it's all straightforward. Fill out the forms, send them off to your local Law Courts with the appropriate fee (about £90 in Dec 2005) and wait for the interview. On the day of the interview, take your identity documents to the

I've been think about blogging for a while now, in fact since last November when my Aunt passed away and left me as executor of her will. I thought that getting stuff down may help anyone else who has to go through the same task. (BTW: I'm writing this from the perspective of someone who has to abide by British law and has to apply for probate). Something to do now if you haven't done so - make a will. It makes life incredibly difficult for others if you don't. I chose to go for probate myself. To quote the solictor who held the will "it's intellectually stimulating". Actually he was trying to put me off - when the estate is in reasonable order and straightforward it's not difficult. He was just trying to get his fee of about £2,000 for doing not much! It can be time consuming...