We moved out of our house in Worcester last Thursday and are now staying with my endlessly obliging in-laws until we are able to move into our new home in Sedgley. Assuming, that is, that we are able to move in there. The last few days have seen a flurry of calls from my solicitor as we go into 'mad panic' mode and attempt to exchange.
Should there be no further contretemps we should exchange on Monday and complete in just two weeks.
If anyone was in any doubt I can confirm that buying a house is not the sort of thing I was put upon the earth to do. When I was created I'm sure the Flying Spaghetti Monster was thinking more about who was going to listen to beautiful music, read books, smell flowers and think pretty thoughts, than who would take care of buying houses, using urinals, queueing at Tesco's and breaking down on the M5. It's one of those things that reduces you back to how you felt in school when you realised that you just weren't like everyone else. If you're me, which you are probably not.
Sedgley promises to be a lovely home. Set on high ground, for the Midlands at least, it's prone to fog and to snow. Being situated next to some woods and fields should ensure a plentiful supply of both in addition to great opportunities for walks and photos. There are also a number of small villages nearby ready to be explored and pub lunched, and Wolverhampton just down the road for all city needs (special mention for the splendid Forbidden Planet).
There is no writing going on. I'm sure that some writers can thrive in writing during stressful periods but not me, as soon as I try and focus on any scripts or short story ideas my mind turns back to the labyrinthine business of completing this house purchase.
I have not been idle however, as I have been reading a great deal of Neil Gaiman. Currently I'm roaring through Under the Eagle by Simon Scarrow, very exciting stuff that makes you wish you were serving in the Roman army two thousand years ago. Perhaps even more so when you're living in a relatives spare room.
Television wise I'm enjoying The Fixer (a sort of 21st century take on The Professionals), Torchwood (let's hear it for Upper Boat. Still not to be taken too seriously, still sometimes more concerned with style than content but bloody great fun and a massive improvement on the patchy first series), He Kills Coppers (lush 1960's cops & gangsters with the excellent Rafe Spall), and the second series of Gavin & Stacey.
I also finally saw Beowulf which I loved, now why don't they use the same techniques to make a Sláine film?
I regret that I didn't enjoying Ashes to Ashes which I stopped watching two episodes before the end. After weeks of saying 'Am I mad, in a coma, or watching Ashes to Ashes' over the tedious intro. It's a heart breaker because I expected, and wanted to love the show having been a huge fan of Life on Mars. The fact is that if there was a vehicle for the continuing adventures of Gene Hunt Ashes to Ashes was not it. The moment may now have passed.
Oh, one final thing...
...but it's at the wrong time. If, like Russell T Davies, you feel that 6.20pm is too early for Doctor Who to start you might like to politely let the BBC know how you feel about it.