I can't remember whether I told Frog dog our new address. If necessary he could use a blood hound or possibly, a St. Bernard to help him try and find us.

What really happened yesterday was this: there was an idiot a prat a tosser at the beginning of the house chain. He, or she, presumably in an attempt to save £5.00 in interest payments, had arranged for his/her mortgage to be finalised at the latest possible moment and of course it came through late; which had a knock on effect up the chain. Consequently, at 2.00 p.m. when all money transfers should have been effected there was no money in our account for the new place. The terrible Goddess and our solicitor spent most of the afternoon sorting it out. We were at the estate/real estate agents for nearly 3 hours waiting to get the keys, which were finally released at 4:50 p.m. The removal man kept phoning up because normally his men finish at 5:00. It started raining.
It got sorted out in the end, just seconds away from the TG becoming the TERRIBLE GODDESS which is very real and quite devastating for any one within a 2 mile radius on the rare occasions when it happens. I had begun to put on my running shoes and crash helmet as well as my shin pads [ I had been wearing those all day - I'm not that stupid ].

When we finally gained access we found that British Telecom had managed to organise our interweave thingy and, by some miracle I managed to sort out all the connections for MAC.
I clicked on 'get mail' and Surftwin had left a comment
' all unpacked ?' This caused hysterical laughter, followed by sobbing and then total collapse. The state of play at the moment is shown below



I've just realised that I forgot to buy some malt whisky this morning when I popped out to view a sale of inflatable altars [they weren't any good; the TG would never have approved, far too tacky - a shame really, they were very cheap] so I'm beginning to panic - byeeeeeeeee.