WELCOME TO BIDDYVILLE

Well here we are.  Let me introduce you to the new neighbourhood.  Our hobbit hole is at the bottom of a cul-de-sac of nice little bungalows with manicured gardens and large driveways.  Unlike traditional street numbering, there are no odds or evens here.  Each house is numerically ordered beginning and ending where the cul-de-sac meets the main road.  It’s a small cul-de-sac and we’re in a bottom corner of the turning circle.

View from our front driveway of the cul-de-sac

We made a point of introducing ourselves to the neighbours (at a safe distance) most of whom are called Ann which makes it easy to remember who they all are as I’m useless with names.  (If in doubt, just shout Ann and hope for the best).  One of them described the place as ‘God’s Waiting Room’ and with most residents being over retirement age it’s not difficult to see why.  I guess that makes us young whippersnappers in comparison.  The local busybody neighbours tentatively asked if we were ‘party people’ and looked secretly relieved when we said no.  At this point I thought it polite not to mention my preference for satanic rock music especially as the neighbour attached to our semi is an ex-priest’s wife.  She could have me excommunicated!

Our new house is a dinky semi-detached chalet bungalow with a garage, driveway and front garden large enough to be converted into a second parking space which is certainly something to consider for the future.  It’s a cosy little place with 2 bedrooms upstairs, a lovely spacious lounge/diner, kitchen large enough for baking and manageable back garden that has scope for a bit of landscaping. A perfect little retirement home.

 

Front garden - possible extra driveway?

Front of house

The previous owners (now deceased) lived here for 46 years.  Not surprising as it’s very peaceful, conveniently located for town (20 min walk) and everyone we’ve met so far has been very nice.  I get a real sense of community which I guess will be a welcome change although being a bit of a Grinch getting in with the neighbours is not something that will come easy. 

All sounds perfectly idyllic so far but get this, the house basically needs gutting throughout.  Built around the late 50s/60s, it’s totally lacking in those character features you take for granted such as ornate skirting, architraves and old fireplaces.  The place is a woodchip temple.  Every room is papered in the stuff including the ceilings and everyone knows what a bugger it is to strip painted woodchip paper.  Ugh!

 

Main bedroom with camp beds

View of back garden from lounge patio doors

Lounge

Lounge/diner

The kitchen is the room I most want to take a sledgehammer to.  The floor is covered in a patterned lino you wouldn’t line a coffin in and I can’t wait to chisel off the hideous ceramic wall tiles.  I haven’t seen formica units like these since the 70s.  Definitely a rip out and start again job.

Retro kitchen - it's just got to go

Vintage formica units

Just look at those awful wall tiles

With matching hideous lino

There’s no doubt the DIY to do list will keep us going well into the next century so no shortage of blogging updates on how we’re going to transform the place from biddy bungalow to perfect palace. 

COUNTDOWN TO MOVING DAY

Can you hear it? What? Shussshhh! – it’s the sound of lockdown. I’m stood outside our new house, not a peep can be heard. It’s so quiet at the end of our cul-de-sac I can hear the grass grow. There’s no-one in sight, not a car parked out on the street, no spit roasting pigs in back gardens. Better get used to it as this is what living in Biddyville is going to be like from now on but more about that later. 

It’s been fourteen days since we finally completed on the sale of our house and collected the keys to our new little hobbit hole in Chichester. Hurrah! The countdown to moving day on the 16 November has now begun and whilst it’s been lovely staying in ‘The Badger Suite’ at my daughter’s house, you can’t beat having your own personal space in which to let your hair down. Home sweet home. 

So much has happened since my last post but I’m on an internet embargo as my new laptop sucks up bandwidth faster than I can scoff a bag of Skittles thus leaving everyone else’s gadgets beached high and dry on a wifi-less sandbar. Yep, thanks to Blogger pulling the rug out from Vista users’ feet, I’ve had to bite the hi-tech bullet and go all Windows 10 merely to keep this blog alive. Bah! 

Leaving Charminster was emotional. Moving is not as easy as just skipping off into the sunset. Aside from letting go of the physical asset there’s all the emotional baggage of the past 20 years to pack away too. I do miss my beautiful old house but I now have a lovely new little hobbit hole to turn into a palace and that’s going to keep me out of mischief until retirement. 

My life is now encased in cardboard, I can’t find a thing! There’s not a stick of furniture at the new house and horror of horrors there’s not even a phone line so no broadband. When the BT engineer turns up it’ll be like the second coming.

DON'T SIT THERE

Watch out there’s a Humphrey about!  Retro drinking up times are not the only thing making a come back.  Remember those 1970s Unigate adverts featuring mysterious red and white straw-like burglars sneaking through the air to slurp up your pinta? They’ve either invaded our office or the maintenance man has had a psychotic episode with the gaffer gun.  There’s red and white tape everywhere!

Health and safety’s reached epidemic proportions in the workplace to the extent I thought our office had been redecorated overnight then realised the reason I couldn’t see the wall colour was due to another over-explosion of pandemic posters.  At this rate we’re going to need a bigger office just to display all the Covid rules that have become part of the new normal work regime. 

Shut the toilet lid, wash hands with soap, use hand towels to open the doors, drop them into a special bin, don’t touch the light switches, blah, blah, blah.  There are now so many things to comply with in the toilets alone that it would be easier to wear Pampers than go for a wee at work.  Packets of wet wipes the size of breeze blocks now outnumber the canteen tables and I could fill a paddling pool with the amount of hand sanitizer sloshing about.  It’s nuts.

What’s crazier is that despite all this safety advice, no-one is wearing face masks indoors because it seems the powers-that-be think that laminated posters and gaffer tape are all you need to keep staff safe. Great if you are thinking of using these materials to build yourself a man-made laminated bacterial containment shelter to sit in during the 9 to 5 but it’s hardly going to deter a virus that’s set its sights on making you it’s next holiday home.   

It might have made more of a safety impact to buy us all plastic face shields or segregate office desks with see-through dividers than bombard the place with posters that no-one ever reads because let’s face it, when you’re at work the only thing you look at all day long is the clock in the bottom corner of your PC screen to see how nearer it is to home time. Office posters?   Nah!

As I’ve always wanted to go to work shitfaced, I’ve prepared my own protective facemask ready for when the next set of pandemic work-place rules are introduced.

Getting shitfaced

RULE OF SIX

After a summer of 'sticky bun' silliness, a winter of discontent looms large.  The Government's 10 pm time at the bar has been received with about as much welcome as a flat lukewarm pint on a scorching hot day.  Boozers in their vociferous protest at a return to the temperance dark ages have clearly forgotten that it was only a few decades ago that drinkers were conditioned in Pavlovian fashion to knock back at least 6 pints before the 11 pm bell so this new rule is really no different to a night out back in the 70s or 80s.

Drink up - it's back to the 80s

Perhaps these new lockdown measures will go some way to reducing the noise, litter and anti-social behaviour that usually follows late night drinking.  As I see it there are some positives.  All you shouty, sweary, pukey, half cut punters who stagger past my bedroom window at 3 am to piss against next doors fence can now do all of these things from the comfort of your own home.  Cheers Boris!

It's interesting to see that the new 'rule of six' is already being applied creatively in different ways by different industries.  As I'm buying/selling property let's take a closer look at how this new rule is being used by the Removals sector.  

In June I was quoted £600 by a local company for my furniture to be collected from home to go into storage.  Three months on and that price has mysteriously increased by £100 (a sixth more).  Spooky!  When challenged I was advised this was due to the 'Covid Effect' that is the process by which businesses now try to re-coup lost profits by fleecing unsuspecting punters like me with extortionate price increases for no reason at all other than they can and they will.  If I could shift the stuff myself I would but sadly I'm at the mercy of profiteers like Humpett & Lumpit Removals Ltd.

The rule of six is also likely to put a whole new spin on Christmas celebrations.  Boris has said he doesn't want to cancel Christmas but I am more than happy to red card this year's festive season as perhaps we may see a return to the first Noel rather than the crass commercialised shenanigans that we've all been brainwashed into thinking is Christmas (bah humbug!).

In my post pandemic utopian Christmas festivities I see one or two lovingly handmade presents, a simple but intimate meal in my own home with my small family bubble followed by a cosy cherishing of each other's company with a few bottles of wine, lots of laughs and all out by 10 pm.  No iPads, iPhones or I-Spent-a-small-fortune-buying-lots-of-useless-tat this year.  I'm all for a back to basics Christmas where the only turkey is on the plate and not in the room.

If only the rule of six could be applied to boost pay packets or more specifically to the pay packets of those low paid employees who have worked tirelessly through the whole pandemic keeping the nation afloat - now that would be pretty amazing!

Before - hallway carpet tiles removed

After - Bergan Oak laminate flooring fitted

Before - dining room carpet stripped

After - new laminate flooring fitted

Before - lounge with green carpet removed and after with new laminate flooring fitted