On Thursday, Sue the (aptly named) Solicitor called. She told me that the Buyers' mortgage is approved and the searches are underway. I'm racking my brains trying to remember what exactly searches entail, seems a while since we bought. I think it's basically getting hold of those maps which show property boundaries, nearby areas of contamination etc. Nothing much showed up on our searches so it should be fine unless Stoke Canon's become a radioactive hotspot since we moved in.
Anyway, I asked Sue whether they'd be getting a survey (they've had a mortgage valuation which is basically some bloke coming round for about 10 minutes and going "yep, this house doesn't appear to be falling down") but no proper survey as yet. She said they wouldn't necessarily get one done. Since then we've heard that they will be getting a survey, on Wednesday in fact, so we've been busy filling cracks in the ceiling over the weekend!
Sue reckons we could technically complete on 29th July if the buyers are happy with that. My guess is that it will be a bit later than that. Getting the survey written up and sent to them will push the completion date back by at least a week. And then it's whether they've handed in the notice on their property yet yada yada yada. Paul's still holding up hope for 29th July but my bets are on the second week of August. Ever the realist!
Talking of Paul, he's now finished his job, therefore I am the sole breadwinner at least for the next 3 to 5 weeks. *Breaks out into a chorus of 'Independent Women' by Destiny's Child* I really don't mind, it gets me out of deep cleaning the house and packing boxes! But I really hope it's not for too long as the Mortgage alone is *gets calculator out* 52% of my monthly income, and there's bills and food and Bluebird's MOT on top of that, and given that our overdraft limit is a constant menace at the best of times we're going to have to be reeeally careful with money if we're going to survive any length of time like this. Fish fingers for dinner every night I think.
Anyway, now we come to the bright shiny gold-plated news of the week which came on Friday when I emailed David the Bursar and asked if he could pleeeease let us know where we'll be living. He replied almost immediately to say he will allocate us the flat in the Runcie building. I have decided I love David the Bursar.
The flat is exactly the sort of place I pictured us living in when we chose Cuddesdon. On campus, right in the heart of things, the chapel and the common room only a hop away. Up on the second floor with sweeping views of the Oxfordshire countryside. Two-bedrooms, space for a study and for guests to stay. We've really fallen on our feet.
I was meaning to tell Tom the Vicar at the Church Fete yesterday. Being a Cuddesdon man himself he was adamant that Runcie would suit us down to the ground. But he was busy in his dog collar and wide-brimmed hat circling the stalls, quipping on the microphone from time to time. It is slightly bizarre to think I'll be doing that sort of thing in a few year's time.
Andy the New Curate was there and seems to be getting stuck in, despite having only been at St Davids for a week. Tom introduced him over the mic. What Andy's doing is essentially what I'll be doing in 2 years' time - a Curate is a sort of Apprentice Vicar - so it's interesting to watch him and his family as they settle in.
Paul and I ran the Beat the Buzzer stall. We made £7.20. Probably won't be enough to mend the dodgy West wall. Might buy some gaffer tape to patch it up in the meantime.
So that was yesterday. Today I've been writing poetry. Would you like to hear it? I'm not sure how pleased I am with it. I'm normally a rhyme and rhythm kind of girl and this one doesn't have either.
Being and Doing
At four years old
We crawl into a cocoon and lie
Learning and growing
Ready to emerge at twenty-one
And see what we have become.
As I spread my wings
I was expecting definition
But there were no clear markings
To tell me what I was.
From four I knew
You are what you do
Like the faces on my Happy Families cards
(Mr Bread the Baker
Mr Plod the Policeman
Mrs Chalk the Teacher)
I can see the badges on their uniforms
I know what they are.
But I had no uniform.
I had a job
But I wasn’t a job
I was a lot of other things
(A friend, a wife, a dreamer)
But I wasn’t a job
It sounds obvious
But it’s a gear shift
And one I’m still getting used to
As I scold myself every time I ask
A stranger at a party
A minute into the conversation
“So, what do you do?”
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