French Deal

Ah me. No closer to selling the flat and moving to Oraas. Still, David Haigh has been declared bankrupt and has taken the mrs Alma and disappeared into the sunset leaving behind a trail of damage and debts of £16 million or more. Mind you, that means the freehold has been taken over and maybe someone will come back on site and finish the landfill view outside my front door here in Manchester.

Meanwhile, I've signed up for a wood staining extravaganza in Sheffield. If I'm going to tackle that beautiful new staircase with tins of stain, then I'd better learn how to do that properly. So I'm going to arm myself with the finest sandpaper, lint and the proper finish then probably spill it all over my new terracota tiles.

No news from Guillhaume on the new sound system he kindly installed. That's the zinc lined chimney brest over the Basque fireplace. It's a conduit for sound emitted by a central heating boiler the size of the Tardis which is just the other side of the wall. Design error there waiting to be solved. Each time the boiler fires up - it's like the Queen Mary returning to Southampton after a long voyage.

I also noticed there is a strange clicking noise on my radio early morning and early evening which lasts about one hour each time, then it stops. So music is punctuated with a rythmic tick. It took me a while to notice that it coincided with the lights being on in Lionel's milking shed across the field. So when the cows come home it's announced on my radio by the regular pulses of the milking machines. Can't wait for the bullfrogs to move up from the river during the mating season, then it will be a right rural symphony of whoops, ticks and belches.

posted by French Deal @ 1:36 am