I hate BT. I really really do.
I bought my first house in December 2003 in a little village called Gainford, in County Durham. It was a beautiful teeny tiny two bedroom place. Over 200 years old, built using cobbles from the river, which meant the walls were about 2 foot thick and almost bombproof. It had an open fire and exposed beams in the sitting room, a deep window seat and huge window in the main bedroom. It was darling.
Amazingly for a house that old, it had never been connected to the telephone network. Something which BT could not understand. So when the chap finally arrived to connect the house, he had all the wrong tools as he had been told it was a new connection to a new house (as it was impossible that a 200 year old house had never been connected). To cut a very long and painful story short, the poor BT engineer caused so much damage to my sitting room wall, that BT eventually had to pay to have my wall re-plastered and the room redecorated (using Farrow and Ball paint colours of course darling). Whilst this was all on going BT’s legal department told me not to pay the instillation charges until the repair work had been carried out. Unfortunately the legal department clearly does not talk to the billing department, who for the next six months cut me off on a regular basis, as I had not paid the instillation charges.
It took nearly a year to resolve, but finally all was fixed and the telephone worked. But not with out a great deal of stress.
I had hoped that having a phone connected to our new rented flat would be less painful, but clearly not. Even though all the wiring is in, it seems like we still need yet another engineer to call to make it all work.
So the mobile bills are getting bigger and broadband looks like a very distant dream at the moment.
In the mean time my coffee intake is going up and up and the barristas at Starbucks are beginning to recognise me.
We are settling in in Leeds, and have begun house hunting in and around the city.
My company car was sent back yesterday, and strangely I felt more sad seeing it being driven off than I did driving away from our house in London. We are going to see a very silly little sports car on Saturday with a view to buying that (thank goodness we have done all of our trips to IKEA already), so hopefully we can resume the house hunt shortly.
And excitingly, someone is interested in selling my quilts! A little eclectic shop has opened in Barnard Castle called My Generation which looks to stock a real mix of vintage, re-purposed and independently designed products from homewear to clothes and accessories. I need to run up a couple of samples, which I can do easily from my stock of fabrics, and do some costings. I’m very excited as I really need something like this to give me a kick to get sewing again.