It’s been some time since the Happiness that is Happiness Stan saw fit to write something. For Happiness Stan has been about as happy as a fart in a thunderstorm. Not happy. Not happy at all.
I could go into the intricate details surrounding this lack of happiness….and i will.
Moving. To be specific. Selling one house and then buying another. And then moving from the former to the latter. They say that moving is akin to dying*. And it is. At various times death would have been a…sorry I’ve been distracted whilst the wife is singing along to a live TV version of the Sound of Music…It’s okay she’s gone to get some wine. Anyway back to my point…death would have been a sweet release. The issue?
*(I made that up but it is true)
Lawyers. My god how painful. I have never experienced a legal process so tedious, drawn-out, incompetent or lacking in empathy. No one has a bloody clue how anything is supposed to work.
Everyone involved (except the mugs actually buying and selling) does this thing every day (I mean estate agents (although to be fair they were actually really good at stopping me losing my rag and saying something inappropriate to the lawyer), mortgage consultants, solicitors, building societies)…none of them seemed to have any opinion, view or even a semblance of an idea about how to actually do anything, how to solve a problem, what Plan B was, could be.
The stress was intense, ongoing and unrelenting. We had a solicitor who could only communicate with the mortgage provider with a fax machine. Fax machine. In the 21st Century. And even better the fax machine kept breaking. Come off it. Pull the other one, its got bells on.
Bloody shite. It will come as no surprise therefore to learn that my interest in writing about cooking food wained. We have spent the last 2 months living off pizza and wine (and scotch, if the wine ran out).
Nevertheless we have made it. We are sitting in our new house. We have, of course, got a new kitchen.
As you can see it’s in a state of chaos. But it’s bigger, it’s better, it’s just right. We will be cooking in that bad boy. Cooking big time.
And all this with less than a week until Christmas Day. Christmas? Sod that. I will be lying under the Christmas tree (thank God for artificial trees) with a vodka in one hand whilst the wife spins around our new living room singing ‘Doh^-re-me-so’ and so on. Or whatever.
^‘Doh’ as in Homer Simpson
Anyway here’s to the end of 2015 and new beginnings in 2016. Did I mention we have an electric gate? I didn’t? Well on our first morning it stopped working. We couldn’t get out of our new house. We were completely trapped. We had to call the man who sold the house to us to let us out. He couldn’t open it either. Panic set in. ‘Never happened before’, he said. I felt like Tom Hanks in that film ‘The Money Pit’. After half an hour we found that I had inadvertantly flicked a switch labelled ‘Patio Lights’ which in fact switched off the gates. Happy Days!