Tag Archives: furniture sale

Sunday 20th July 2025 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a very busy boy today, and have accomplished quite a lot. It’s not often that I have days as productive as this, so it’s worthy of note.

Not that last night was any indication of how things might have been. It was another one of those nights where things dragged and dragged, and I seemed to be struggling to do the simplest of things.

Even though I’d started my notes at some kind of reasonable time and looking forward to a reasonably early finish, instead it was almost 23:30 when I finally crawled into bed.

Mind you, I was soon asleep, and I can’t remember anything at all until I had another dramatic awakening at 06:05 this morning. So much for my lie-in until 08:00, and does anyone else apart from me remember my legendary lie-ins until midday and later on Sundays prior to dialysis?

As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … being awake is one thing. Being up and about is something else completely. It was actually 06:20 when I finally staggered into the bathroom to sort myself out for the day.

After the medication, I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I ended up buying an old lorry and was looking for work for it. In the end, a place down near Audlem was a tar centre and they were disposing of some of their tar so I bought ten tons of it and put it in a tanker. Then, I was wondering what to do with it because I couldn’t think of how I was going to dispose of it. My father told me that they put it mostly on the roads. I asked him how far he thought that ten tons would go, but he didn’t think that ten tons would go very far. After much thinking about it, he suggested that I head north out of Audlem and look for some of the salt mines that rare around there and see whether their roads need upgrading etc because there were other places in the vicinity where I could have my tank washed and prepared for whatever, a different kind of load. But I was totally bewildered by what I was going to do with this ten tons of tar and couldn’t think why I had bought it. It was just a weird decision to do that but I didn’t know what else I could do

One thing that I could easily have imagined myself doing in the past was owning a lorry. It wouldn’t have been a tanker though – too many safety certificates and the like to obtain, and I certainly wouldn’t have gone out to buy ten tons of tar on spec without having a ready market for it. Mind you, I have done wilder things …

Later on, I’d met a couple of Americans who were in the UK doing business. I wondered whether there might be some kind of opportunity for me with them so I had a little chat and talked about my business, puffing up my affairs a little. They told me that they had two representatives in the UK at that particular time, one of whom was in the area and the other one was in Lincoln, so I was chatting to them. I had to set off in a car and ended up stopping at a motorway service station where I was talking to a lorry driver about all of the changes in the service areas over the years and how he was saying that he would continue having trouble finding the right kind of place. He and I tried to leave the building but even with his pass key it was still a struggle to leave. I told him about the times that I’d been down on a motorway service station driving lorries. I climbed into my car but I drove off the service station without looking. I thought “that was a lucky escape”. I then had to decide where to go. I was heading somewhere down the M1 but I wondered if I should go to Lincoln instead but I thought “what am I going to do when I’m in Lincoln?”. I carried on driving to my destination and when I was there, I created a website and set it up in a foreign country, then sent a link to these American people with the idea that with my business being registered in a foreign domain, it would confuse them. But they were in the middle of the street in Nantwich Road – the middle of the pavement – having a huge discussion. I dropped my coat but even with a big shovel, I still couldn’t pick it up. I was just pushing it farther and farther into the road.

“Commercial puffs” are well-known in business and I think that just about every businessman has engaged in them. Some were so convincing and overwhelming, in the cases of companies like Enron and WorldCom, and individuals such as Bernie Madoff, that when they were finally exposed, they collapsed whole economies. Not, however, that any puffing up that any sole trader on my scale of business could do would ever damage an economy. Chance would be a fine thing.

Isabelle the Nurse was late today, having overslept this morning. consequently she was in and out in a flash and I could carry on and make breakfast.

There was also MY BOOK to read.

Our author is still on the prowl around the churches of London and it looks as if he’s going to be there for quite a while. He does, however, make some interesting remarks about various bequests that were made by the rich in order to aid the deserving poor, finishing by saying "how this … was performed I have not heard, for executors of our time having no conscience (I speak of my own knowledge) prove more testaments than they perform.".

Back in here, I watched Stranraer away to Edinburgh City, and almost fell asleep in the middle, such was the game. I have been to funerals with a more lively atmosphere than the atmosphere at the Meadowbank Stadium during the game.

Next task was to tackle the “Sunday Woodstock” radio programme. I had ten minutes and seventeen seconds to lose so that meant “goodbye” to two groups, whose style doesn’t really fit into our programmes, and a rewriting and editing of certain vocal parts. I’d anticipated some exclusions and had dictated some notes to cover them. There was plenty of applause amongst the tracks too and so I had some room to manoeuvre … "PERSONoeuvre" – ed … in there.

It took an age to do all of that and line up the various sections of the programme afterwards, but it’s now all done and it sounds quite good Even the bad mistake that I had made and which I identified yesterday was patched over.

So that’s a huge weight off my mind, because it has been the most difficult radio task that I have ever performed. The research alone took a couple of months all told.

There was an interruption – I had to pause for a while to sell some furniture. I’m slowly having a clear-out and have advertised some stuff on one of these websites. Today, it was the turn of the four cheap kitchen units, those that I bought a few years ago just before I fell ill and so never installed here, to go out of the door.

Well, they were out of the door already – on the landing outside where they have lived for three or four years – but anyway, they aren’t there now, the ground’s all flat.

After a disgusting drink break, I had another task to perform.

There has been a huge accumulation of paperwork around here that I haven’t filed away for eighteen months and it was completely out of hand, so I sorted it all out into date order and it’s now all neatly filed away in various folders.

At one point I had several piles of papers on the floor and it reminded me of the good old days when Nerina and I were sorting out the paperwork for the taxis. We’d have several piles of paperwork on the floor, and then the cats would come in. They would make a very intelligent and correct guess about which pile of paperwork we were actually working, and then go to sit on it.

And that reminds me – I shall have to think about trying to find a cat for when I move downstairs. I am determined to have one.

Something else that I’ve done is to pack a couple more boxes with things to be taken downstairs. I shall let my faithful cleaner take charge of that.

There was bread to make this afternoon, as well as a pizza base for tea. And that all worked well, except that the bread needed much longer than usual this afternoon to bake. I’ve no idea what was the matter with the oven today.

So now that I’ve had my delicious pizza and tidied up a little, I’m off to bed. Tomorrow, I’m going to be busy. There are my bags to pack, food to make, and then I’m off to dialysis in the afternoon. When dialysis is finished, I’m going straight to Paris for chemotherapy so it will be unlikely that there will be a blog entry for tomorrow night. You may have to wait for Tuesday to read it.

But seeing as we have been talking about wills and testaments … "well, one of us has" – ed … a very true story is that someone was left a sum of money in someone else’s will "on condition that he could prove that he was not dead."
The heritee had to present himself before a Commissioner for Oaths who asked him "Are you Mr …..?"
"Yes I am" replied the heritee.
"Are you dead?" asked the Commissioner
"No I am not"
"Are you prepared to swear an oath to that effect?"

Monday 26th August 2013 – WELL, I MADE IT TO THE AIRPORT

terminal 2 airport charles de gaulle paris franceBut it wasn’t half touch and go, I’ll tell you.

I didn’t manage to get anything in the way of sleep last night either, because I couldn’t find the keys to my storage box and my safety deposit box in Canada.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and so I put a couple of batteries for the Ryobi angle grinder on charge. It’s as well to be prepared, and that will sort out the men from the boys of course. After that, desperate measures were called for and I started going through all of the waste bins.

I’m glad I did because I found my missing personal telephone directory NOYE TO SELF – have a word with Cécile about her method of tidying up. I found lots of other disagreeable objects but no keys and at 08:52 I called it a day and started to pack everything away.

However, I had a thought. I definitely remember putting the keys in a zipped pocket and they ought to be in the zipped pocket of my “Canada Electrical” bag. But I didn’t remember opening the suitcase after I locked up the storage unit. I’d tipped out my sac banane where there are about four zipped pockets, and the keys weren’t there either of course, but there was a zipped pocket on the computer and camera hold-all.

And sure enough, with just a couple of minutes to go, I emptied that out, and there they were! Phew! That was a close shave!

So at Radio Tartasse I recorded two months of rock programmes, then Liz and I did 6 weeks of “Radio Anglais”. I stopped off at the Pionsat Intermarché to buy a pile of bread and salad and I’ve made a mountain of butties – I know all about the closed restaurant round the corner from my hotel and I have my suspicions about Air Transat and their choice of vegan food. It’s as well to be prepared.

caliburn at liz and terry messenger sauret besserve puy de dome franceAfter taking Julie and Clare’s furniture out of Caliburn, I garaged him right round the back of Liz and Terry’s where he can stay quiet for 6 weeks or so out of the way and be good.

Liz kindly prepared lunch, a salad and bread, and I shaved my head with the hair trimmer. There are First Nation Canadians, or Amerindiens, around by where I’m going and I’ve heard all kinds of stories about the Malicete. I’m not leaving them anything to pull off. Anyway, after all of that, we went down to Gerzat in Liz’s car to record 5 weeks of “Radio Anglais” for Radio Arverne.

diesel multiple unit sncf french railways riom puy de dome franceThat was for once quite straightforward and then Liz dropped me off at the station in plenty of time for my train.

I’ve no idea what make or model it is – I shall have to refer to my Jane’s Train Recognition Guide for that, but I can tell you that it wasn’t as rattly or as bangy as the one last time I came here. And as nothing at all exciting happened during the voyage, we arrived in Lyon, and Lyon is much more civilised than trying to go via Paris. I had time to eat some butties and drink a coffee.

double decker TGV Lyon part dieu paris charles de gaulle SNCF French railways franceIn the TGV though we were like sardines. I was lucky in that I boarded early and so I managed to grab a place on the difficult rail halfway down the carriage. Anyone who came after me was struggling for luggage space. It really is ridiculous – why don’t they have a luggage van and a baggagiste on each of the trains? That would make everything so much simpler.

And a good 25 minutes late, due to a tardy connection, we hurtled off into the night with kids screaming and all kinds of things. And not even a place to swing a cat. I hate to think what this would be like on a Saturday evening.

That 25 minutes ended up as being a whopping great 44 minutes by the time that we arrived at the station at Terminal 2, and although that might seem like bad news, it is in fact the first bit of good news that I have had for about a week because it entitles me to a refund of 25% on my ticket – something that I shall be following up with vigour.

paris charles de gaulle airport terminal 2 waiting for hotel shuttle bus franceUp in a crowded lift from the first floor to the fifth floor and into a heaving mass of people waiting for the hotel buses. Last year I stepped out of the station and onto the bus – this year I think that everyone else’s bus must have done 5 or 6 trips before mine came. But at least that had dispersed the masses and we were a mere 12 on the bus.

Having now had a shower (and we aren’t talking about the OUSA Exeecutive Committee here), configured the new laptop for the internet and downloaded a pile of files as well as a FTP program, I can post this load of rubbish and go to bed.

Wednesday 21st August 2013 – Cécile’s car …

… is ow fully-loaded ready for the off ad by the time may of you read this (like tomorrow mornig) she ad her mum will be well on their way.

Caliburn is still fully-loaded but with a different load aboard. This morning we went off to deliver a table to a woman who had bought it over the internet. That freed up a good deal of space inside the van and with the dosh we went off to the Bois de la Cambre and the Chateau Robinson to spend our ill-gotten gains.

ferry chateau robinson lake bois de la cambreYou’ve see loads of photos of the Chateau Robinson, from my other visits there in the past and so that you kow that it’s on an island and reached by a ferry, such as the one in this photo, across the lake.

Even keener readers will recall that some time over Christmas 2011 I had a chat with none other than the present King of the Belgians, and if that little bit of shameless name-dropping doesn’t earn me any Brownie Points then there is no justice in this world.

cecile desmarest fabienne desmarest bois de la cambre brusselsCecile’s mum had never been on the ferry, of course, and as she is a keen boatsperson, she was quite enthusiastic about the trip, and who can blame her?

Back here, the apartment is even more empty as the divan and easy chair have disappeared inside Caliburn. Cécile is having them for her new house, wherever that may be.

And that is that. Things are winding down here. It won’t be long before I’m going as well.

Saturday 17th August 2013 – ANCHORS AWAY!

cecile desmarest fabienne desmarest titanic pedalo etang mellaerts brussels Well, it was something like that anyway. Here we all are on the “Titanic”- a pedalo on the Etangs Mellaerts at Brussels.

We’ve had a full day out today (or, at least, an afternoon). We started off at the Carrefour down by Hermann Debroux where we did a huge load of shopping (I dunno where it all goes, this food). From there we went to the “Lunch Garden”, for the simple reason that they were advertising moules et frites and as we all know from our visit to the Ile D’Yeu earlier this year Cecile’s mother is rather partial to moules et frites.

cecile desmarest fabienne desmarest titanic pedalo etang mellaerts brusselsWe weren’t alone on the lake either. Loads of other boats and pedalos, newly-married couples, swans, ducks and all of that kind of thing too. In fact we only needed a whale and we would have had a whale of a time.

Conspicuous by his absence however was Strawberry Moose. He had heard Cecile and I discussing our proposed adventure and he was all up for it, of course? What made him change his mind however was that I told him that, no matter how it was pronounced, the objects for which we were going to be looking were spelt O-A-R-S. That rather put the kybosh on it from his point of view, I’m afraid.

old tram museum in operation etang mellaerts brusselsThe Etangs Mellaerts are only just down the road from the tram museum and there’s a tram line that goes out to the African Museum at Tervuren. Every so often they give one of the historic trams a run out along that line and, sure enough, an old-timer goes a-rattling and a-clanking past us.

So back home and the only disappointment was that we had another no-show this evening. The person who wants to buy the washing machine and who should have been here at 18:00 – he never turned up. I don’t know why people do this kind of thing.

Thursday 15th August 2013 – I KNOW THAT I PROMISED YOU …

…that I wouldn’t discuss the question of parking any more, but I’m a bigger liar than Barack Obama when he promised to close the Concentration Camp at Guantanamo Bay.

sensible parking avenue jeanne ixelles 1050 brussels belgiumI have in fact been obliged to continue my discussion and to post a photograph, because here is someone who actually did it properly.

I can certainly say that there was nothing in front of him – he could have advanced another 3 or 4 metres if he had so desired, and not only that, he actually looked out of his car door, saw where the line was and reversed back another foot or so to make sure that he was on the limit.

It goes without saying that the driver wasn’t a Belgian. He was of oriental extraction – East Asian or something like that. But anyway he did it properly.

So this morning I was up again early and while Cécile and her mum were sleeping I dashed off a huge pile of amendments to my web site, adding the “like” and “share” buttons, correcting the layout of a few headings, and also adding on some stuff about cookies. In case you are wondering, I haven’t coded any cookies knowingly into my website. The only ones that you might find are those embedded into third-party plug-ins;

Eventually Cécile and her mum were ready and so I sent them off out to the shops but they were back inside half an hour. It’s “Ascension”, isn’t it? And Belgians don’t need too many excuses for having a day off.

This afternoon we attacked the cellar and I can’t blame Cécile for losing interest half-way through because it’s a desperate job. I’ve no idea why Marianne tore up so much paper – letters and stuff – as she did and then put it all down in her cellar. I’ve sorted out most of that stuff but we’ll need to finish it off tomorrow if Cécile can pluck up the courage;

There’s much more stuff photographed and I’ve put a good pile of iton the web page as well as on the Deuxième main web site. There’s already someone in after the washing machine and I hope that the rest goes soon. Another day on this and everything should be on it, I hope.

But sorry about the parking again.

Wednesday 14th August 2013 – YET ANOTHER MORNING …

… when I was up long before the alarm clock went off. I dunno what’s been happening to me just recently – it’s not as if I’ve wet the bed or anything.

So for an hour or two at least it was “full steam ahead” with adding these tags to my web pages and I really didn’t realise exacly how many pages there are. All this time and I’ve hardly scratched the surface.

What’s even more frightening is that I’ve realised just how many web pages are in the pipeline and how much I still have to write. I hope that my stay in Greece will be productive.

Once Cécile’s mum had woken up we sorted out all of the boxes here – Cécile has had a good look at all of the stuff that was in them. THen we attacked the kitchen, and the least said about that the better. I never realised just how much stuff there is in here – it’s amazing just how much useless rubbish one can accumulate.

The big wardrobe went today, that means that tomorrow we can all go shopping and buy some food. We might even be able to eat too.

And later on this evening we went for a long walk around the University grounds and somehow ended up at the Abbaye de la Bois de La Cambre, the abbey that is just down the road from here, sitting quietly in the sunset watching the fish and the ducks and the herons in the old fish pond.

Cécile’s mother, who has never been to Brussels before, is quite pleased with what she saw today. She might not be so pleased with what she might see tomorrow, because Cécile and I are going to empty the cellar.

And in other news, the much-maligned (and quite rightly so) FAW, the Football Association of Wales, has made a complete and utter U-turn and inviting not only Barry Town but also Llanelli FC to rejoin the Welsh Football League. I suppose that “it is better to learn wisdom late than never to learn it at all”, as Sherlock Holmes said in “The Man With The Twisted Lip”, but this sordid issue could have been resolved in the same fashion with just 5 seconds of goodwill and earned the FAW all kinds of applause, instead of having disputes, arguments, lies and Court Cases and even more vilification heaped upon the Football Association of Wales.

As long as the FAW continues to shoot itself in the foot, there is really no hope for Welsh football. It’s high time the FAW councillors got a grip or else that’s going to be another group of people stood up against the embankment in the Tir National up the road.

Thursday 8th August 2013 – I HAVEN’T FINISHED …

…my magnum opus for “Radio Anglais” as I had hoped.

I’m not too disappointed though – because I haven’t by any means been idle. The notes that I had prepared from last time ran to something like 15kb.

By the close of play today I’ve more than doubled that to 32kb, which is he equivalent of about 800 lines of text and over 5770 words.

Usually a radio programme’s “technical notes” bit runs to about 3.5kb so I’m looking at an equivalent of 10 programmes and maybe more (because I’ve still plenty of stuff to go at) and that will suit me fine.

Yes, 5 weeks to record just before I go and 5 weeks to record as soon as I come back.

Some more furniture might be going too. Someone has been round to look at the big wardrobe and made an offer.

I was hoping for more but I want to empty the place as quickly as possible so I shall gnash my teeth and let it go. She’s coming back for it on Tuesday – I hope she won’t have changed her mind.

Apart from that we had a pile of visits of people to look at the apartment. Some are clearly timewasters, of course, but one or two look more interested. We shall have to see.

I’m not too discouraged, though. In order to find a prince you need to kiss a lot of frogs.

I had another good dream too. I was at a product fair somewhere in the UK selling stuff related to my business but throughout all of the day I didn’t sell a tap, which was disappointing. A short while later I was wandering around Wistaston Road in Crewe near where the old timber yard was, which by now was all closed up and weed-infested, and I was following a couple of girls who were looking for old cars – Morris Oxford MO-type and pre-Farina Austin A50s and the like. And as I came to the bottom of Delamere Street where it joins Flag Lane round by the Old Vine, a pre-Farina A50 estate turned up into the street in front of me. I remember thinking to myself “how lucky – the only abandoned cars you see around here these days are old Morris Minors”

Yes, nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, is it?

Tuesday 6th August 2013 – I PROMISE YOU …

av jeanne ixelles 1050 brussels belgium bad parking august aout 2013… that this shall be the last time that I’ll mention parking.

So here’s a photo of two different vehicles well-advanced in front of the rear limit for parking, and this time a car parked here in the foreground and overhanging the pedestrian crossing.

What more can I say …“haven’t you said enough?” – ed

Meanwhile in other news, the first of the furniture has gone from the apartment. Nothing large or bulky though, but nevertheless it’s a start. I’m now €20 richer than I was before, so “spend, spend spend!”, hey?

But this blasted agent immobilier is thoroughly getting on my wick. She’s uncovered another problem now – that the monthly service fees are so astronomical that no-one will buy the apartment (and so she will lose her commission of course).

“I know they are” I told her. “Marianne was on a very limited income and so when the boiler was repaired in 2009 and the lift was overhauled in 2011 she didn’t have the money to pay her share”.

“Consequently the gerance of the building arranged two loans for her (and for other people too) for their shares and the monthly repayments are included in the service fees”.

“And if you remember “I continued “I mentioned this to the people who came this weekend and I told them expressly that these loans would be paid off at the sale and so they will have no implication for any new purchaser”.

“Well I spoke to your notaire and they know nothing about it” she wailed, and that angered me, her not believing a single word that I told her and her clients

“That’s hardly surprising” I retorted, “seeing as how my notaire is on holiday. You probably were put through to the teaboy.”
And on and on and on she wailed until I lost patience and told her to f*** off.

5 minutes later I had someone from the notaire on the telephone. “Will you tell that blasted Madame Blum to stop flaming well ringing us up every 5 sodding minutes about your flaming apartment. It’s getting on our blasted nerves”.

Yes, this stupid woman is the cause of more problems here than she solves.

Everything is a crisis for her, every reaction is a panic. She’s frightening away more customers than she’s recruiting, thanks to her attitude, and also with her business practices, about which I shall have much more to say at a later date.

But doing business with her is a nightmare. She is making problems out of nothing at all.

And apart from that, when I had the time (which as you can see, wasn’t as much as I would have liked) I did the two radio programmes for the Radio Anglais rock shows on Radio Tartasse.

I have to do two because I’m away at the end of September (I hope, unless there’s another crisis) so I’m recording two months’ worth at the end of August.

Tomorrow I’ll start to attack the rest of the programmes.

If the blasted agent immobilier lets me. What a shambles.