Proof that "We're going to live in a tent in a field" is easier read than done. (WARNING: Contains occasional but understandable swearing.)
Friday, 27 July 2007
Morning post
You know how, most days, all you get through the front door are bills, bank statements, junk mail and flyers for pizza-burger-chicken joints you're never going to use?
Well yesterday, that didn't happen.
Instead, we had a letter from our English solicitor, enclosing a formal declaration about the path behind our house, which I had to sign in front of another solicitor, at a cost of £5, because I declined to spend £220 on a bullshit indemnity policy. Behind this, we had another letter, from the same solicitor (always confusing when they do this), enclosing the Contract to sign and return. And finally, a letter from our French solicitor, enclosing a cheque for €350.
Bonus.
A flurry of activity and a few flourishes of cheap biro later, the Contract is with our solicitor, signed and ready to Exchange, with a provisional Completion date of August 8th. Of this year.
If you're wondering what we might find on the doormat today, the postman's already been. Nothing but junk.
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