His name is The General, and...

He's a World War Two addict.

Yes, the tv is back, and with it The History Channel. The nice man from telly land came yesterday and drilled a hole in my wall, put in some wires, gave me a remote control and asked me to hoover up the dust. I can sleep easy now the plasma tv is fulfilling its purpose with a HD connection (I might need new glasses, it doesn't look all that different to me) and we can really believe we are reliving Pearl Harbour. Phew.

Four channel land

There I thought four channel land was a mythical place, far away in time and space, maybe somewhere east of Narnia. But nope, it's here in County Dublin. We finally had the nice telly box man around after waiting “7-10 working days”. Apparently our cables are too old for HD tv, and since that's the only acceptable option, we have to wait for another nice man to come and string wires all over the place...here's hoping it's soon, we're running out of dvds...

The wonder of wiring

We love our new house. We're slowly managing to unpack boxes and find new homes for more stuff than I ever thought two people could possibly own. Mind you, the small one we've brought along for the ride probably has as much to herself as The General and I have collectively.

So, our house was previously owned by a man keen on DIY. There are some lovely shelves and a light or two in places I wouldn't have thought of, but all in all we thought, happy days. That was until we wondered where the telly in the kitchen was plugged in. And where the pull cord for turning on the electric shower in the ensuite was... hmmm...

So far we have found the following, lets call them unlikely, connection points:
kitchen tv is plugged in in a cupboard over the fridge;
pull cord for the ensuite shower is in the main bathroom, we have still to find the switch for the electric shower in the main bathroom;
the gas meter is hidden in a wardrobe (?) in the converted garage;
the lights under the kitchen cabinets are turned on by the “oven on” switch, which I suppose means I'll never have to cook in the dark;
there's a second switch that has to be turned on to make the oven work;
there are six light switches in the hall beside the front door, and I have no idea what 3 of them are for;
I managed to turn on a light in the hall on the day we moved in, but haven't been able to find the switch again since.

I have no doubt our lovely house will continue to unfold her delights in the next few weeks!

House, glorious house

Well, we're in! We finally got our keys on Friday morning, just before the movers arrived at the front door with boxes galore. We were away for the weekend, but we got back in time to order a few sticks of furniture that I've had my eye on for ages. We've also had time to make a dent in some of the unpacking and thankfully found some of my wine glasses...phew. I took a walk up the road earlier to the lovely little wine shop, and I think I made a new friend behind the counter as we discussed the relative merits of dry reisling from the south or sauvignon blanc from the north of New Zealand. My new frugal self may be challenged by a wine shop loyalty card! Anyway, the Mammies are coming tomorrow to help me scrub, and the Dads to put up shelves. Mid-box, I discovered a lovely Jamie Oliver pot which we got as a wedding present, so dinner, which I promised them in payment, will be something from that.

Our internet connection is still a while away, but the usb thing is holding up, so I'm not completely out of touch with the world. I never forsaw the day though, when The General was sticking a wire coathanger in the back of a 12inch portable telly - not quite the 50inch, HD, flat-screen he was promised!

More tales of packing box finds to come...

Moving day?

So, we had the movers all set to go this morning, but after a phone call early yesterday morning, we had to postpone. Apparently there's something about the mortgage funds clearing between banks. Anyway, hopefully that will be sorted today, we'll get the keys this evening and we can start hauling boxes tomorrow instead.

And I'll be one step closer to being back in the land of the internet connection!

Ear worms

I almost constantly have snippets of songs in my head, this morning's being Paula Abdul and a cartoon cat singing "One step forward (two steps back)". I found out yesteday that these eternal and infernal repetitions are called ear worms. Great name.

The apartment has vomited

And it is everywhere. The place looks like it has been visited by a three year old, hopped up on every E number he can find. There's a definite air of getting worse before it gets better, although now The General has begun to help with the packing. His MO for this operation is to take whatever he can see and put it in a box. I'm hanging on for dear life to 2 cups, 2 plates and 2 bowls, and enough cutlery to allow us to eat dinner. I discovered earlier this evening when I turned off the baby monitor that he has put the charging station somewhere in a now sealed box. I hope for the next few weeks Beautiful Girl doesn't need anything when we think she's sleeping.

We have some form of glassware in most of the boxes. I have a peculiar penchant for beautiful wine glasses (and the ambrosia to fill them) and I like to have a matching set...or, I think we counted, 7. And then we have the vases, bought in the vain hope that if I had them he would fill them. (Hmmm, that's a whole nother post.) And the crystal we got as engagement and wedding presents. All of this glass is very carefully wrapped and protected in the dozens of towels we own (a genetic predisposition from my mother's side) and our somewhat less bountiful but equally excessive Egyptian cotton bed linen (that'll be the genes again).

We have a tower of boxes in the sitting room and another in the bathroom. I fear a particularly full bladder in case there's an undiscovered fault line and I am buried under an avalanche of shoes. And we haven't even started on the wardrobes. I'm trying not to think about all the boxes I have in storage from when I sold my house and moved in with The General 3 years ago. If I haven't thought about it and can't remember what is in a box I packed that long ago, do I either need or want it? I'm terrible at these decisions...thank God the new house has an attic.

I have promised myself that the next time I move will be to the nursing home, and Beautiful Girl can deal with the tape gun.