Having introduced our newest adventure in my last post, I thought I would write a post on our experience of pregnancy so far. Probably like many other musings on the subject, this post about the first trimester contains mostly nausea, a large selection of carbs and a few days of bone-aching tiredness. Being one for reading and research, I'd read plenty on the subject of early pregnancy and what to expect. Nothing really prepared me for the reality...
1. The textbook information you find is that nausea/sickness can kick in from around six weeks and tends to fade off at the start of the second trimester. Mine kicked in even before we knew I was pregnant - fleeting moments of nausea and lightheadedness at first (so, 3-4 weeks) and then developing into daily sickness from 5 weeks onwards, ramping up in intensity every week, with the odd day of respite. And although I was practically counting down to the start of the second trimester, the sickness is still going strong at nearly 16 weeks.
(On the flip side of this - neither my mother nor Alan's suffered from sickness at all - many women don't! *sulk*)
2. It's not morning sickness, it's just sickness - it can strike morning, noon or night. Definitely more of a morning thing for me, though, in an almost clockwork-like manner - 'Get up, shower, feel nauseous, get back to bedroom, be sick'. Yup, pleasant.And often followed by 'eat breakfast, leave house, be sick on pavement/in drain/ on train/ on station platform, buy second breakfast to eat at work'. Even better.
The sickness I've felt in the evenings has been completely different - nearly always attributable to something specifice I've eaten, or realising I've overeaten. And then there's the random moments, where you think of something, or you smell something and it sends you running for the nearest bathroom. Coffee? Eurgh. Assorted something in the fridge? Excuse me for a moment...
Pregnancy sickness is also different to other sickness. Often, if you get a sickness bug, you start feeling weak and being sick, it lasts for a day or two where you can't do anything other than lie in bed. With pregnancy sickness, you feel fine one minute, the next minute you have your head in a bucket, and then you feel better again (and repeat ad, erm, nauseum). Timing doesn't come into it.
3. Everyone gets different symptoms, and you don't get all of them. So far for me, the sickness has definitely been the low point - I haven't been exceptionally tired, apart from the odd days here and there, and although I've had a few other symptoms (noone ever tells you about the sore boobs and the sluggish bowels!) the nausea has definitely been the one that has had the most impact.
4. Your food preferences are apt to change from week to week and even day to day. And they won't necessarily be the same as anyone else's. For me, it was marmite on rice cakes and citrusy fruit juices at first (then I started being sick and haven't had any fruit juice since!). For one week only it was jacket potatoes. Then it was hot green vegetables and spicy foods. During the last weeks its been pasta, and tomato and vegetable based dishes - and at the moment I can add salads and cheese to that. (M&S cheese scones are my current 'food heaven' - so good!). Conversely I've gone off foods as well - mostly fruit and meat, but also cakes (I KNOW!) and other sweet foods, like hot cross buns and chutneys. Not chocolate chip cookies though, they're good.
Early on, I also went off tea (no, I don't recognise myself either) - along with the sickness, it was one of the first signs which made me suspect I was pregnant! Luckily that one has come back slowly, although I'm finding I do prefer decaffeinated tea at the moment.
5. Crisps. You will want all the crisps. Even at 9am. Salt and vinegar flavour if possible (later on, paprika). And you will feel guilty. But it will help (at least a bit) with the sickness, so don't feel too bad about it - however, do brush your teeth afterwards! And drink lots of water.
Sunday, 20 April 2014
Thursday, 3 April 2014
The First Three Months
At first you are there in the shadows - passing seconds of lightheadness; increasingly frequent, yet initially fleeting, moments of nausea. You are there in the cups of tea I make, and then leave on my desk for two hours because I haven't even noticed I didn't want them.
A week or so later, you show a little more of yourself; you are but a line - but at the same time, such a wanted and hoped-for line. Is this real - is that really you? It's a little early, so who can be sure?
You are there in what is not there the next day. Nor the next, nor even the day or week after that. And still, we daren't quite believe. It feels such a quiet way to announce yourself, when in our heads and our hearts there are fireworks. We smile, we jump up and down, we hug each other over and over. We... don't quite know what we're supposed to do next.
Finally, a week later, I pick up the phone. It feels so alien, announcing that I need to make an appointment to see a midwife. Surely, this is something other people do?
You start to make yourself more known. You do not like tea, most meat or sweet dishes. What you do like varies from week to week - marmite, potatatoes, broccoli, spices, pasta, tomatoes, salt and vinegar crisps. You do not seem to like my morning routine and tell me about it every morning somewhere between 6.30am and 7.30am - you will continue to do this, with increasing will and strength for the next 8 or 9 weeks (and possibly beyond).
Seeing the midwife makes it more real - questions, forms, due date predictions, blood tests. We head back to work afterwards, buzzing with so much excitement I expect everyone to be able to tell what is going on. We want to keep it a secret from the world for now, so the only person we tell is our personal trainer, just to make exercising a bit more realistic.
The next weeks pass slowly, in a haze of continuing nausea and sickness, tiredness and yet insomnia, lightheadedness and overall a slight disbelief that we could possibly be this lucky. Each day that ticks past is another day closer to the first scan - what if you are no longer there? What if it was all just a mistake?
Finally, the day arrives. We wake up nervous, and spend the morning working at home before heading to the hospital. Car parking is a nightmare, and we are so nervous at what we will find. Have I dreamed the whole thing?
And then - there you are. You cannot see us, but we see you, and how wonderful it is to catch a proper glimpse - you are surprisingly active for such a little person. There are hands, fingers, legs, feet - even your brain and a heartbeat. We stare, mystified, throughout the scan, barely daring to breathe.
For a little while at least, we can almost believe in magic.
A week or so later, you show a little more of yourself; you are but a line - but at the same time, such a wanted and hoped-for line. Is this real - is that really you? It's a little early, so who can be sure?
You are there in what is not there the next day. Nor the next, nor even the day or week after that. And still, we daren't quite believe. It feels such a quiet way to announce yourself, when in our heads and our hearts there are fireworks. We smile, we jump up and down, we hug each other over and over. We... don't quite know what we're supposed to do next.
Finally, a week later, I pick up the phone. It feels so alien, announcing that I need to make an appointment to see a midwife. Surely, this is something other people do?
You start to make yourself more known. You do not like tea, most meat or sweet dishes. What you do like varies from week to week - marmite, potatatoes, broccoli, spices, pasta, tomatoes, salt and vinegar crisps. You do not seem to like my morning routine and tell me about it every morning somewhere between 6.30am and 7.30am - you will continue to do this, with increasing will and strength for the next 8 or 9 weeks (and possibly beyond).
Seeing the midwife makes it more real - questions, forms, due date predictions, blood tests. We head back to work afterwards, buzzing with so much excitement I expect everyone to be able to tell what is going on. We want to keep it a secret from the world for now, so the only person we tell is our personal trainer, just to make exercising a bit more realistic.
The next weeks pass slowly, in a haze of continuing nausea and sickness, tiredness and yet insomnia, lightheadedness and overall a slight disbelief that we could possibly be this lucky. Each day that ticks past is another day closer to the first scan - what if you are no longer there? What if it was all just a mistake?
Finally, the day arrives. We wake up nervous, and spend the morning working at home before heading to the hospital. Car parking is a nightmare, and we are so nervous at what we will find. Have I dreamed the whole thing?
And then - there you are. You cannot see us, but we see you, and how wonderful it is to catch a proper glimpse - you are surprisingly active for such a little person. There are hands, fingers, legs, feet - even your brain and a heartbeat. We stare, mystified, throughout the scan, barely daring to breathe.
For a little while at least, we can almost believe in magic.
Friday, 28 March 2014
Making a House a Home - Making a Mark
We've been in our new home now for over two months - it is amazing how the time has flown!
The first couple of weekends were spent making a big push to unpack and set things up to make the place liveable and then the tiredness of months spent viewing houses, packing boxes and moving home hit and we have allowed ourselves a few weekends of lethargy.
But we have been aching to start to make our mark on the new place, and we started by painting one of the spare rooms. We'd wanted to start with the master bedroom, but neither of us having painted a room in many years we thought that we would "practice" on a smaller room first.
Frances had found us a colour at the first search - Laura Ashley - Duck Egg Blue.
 |
| Testing out our choice |
 |
| The first coat |
 |
| Finished? Not quite. |
We're not entirely sure why this happened. Perhaps we were a bit cautious with the thickness of paint going on the walls, or perhaps the texture we were painting on was too shiny to hold the amount needed. Either way, we're glad we decided to practice in this smaller room first.
A couple of weekends later we put on a third coat. Slightly worried that it would dry differently to the original coats, but we needn't have been concerned. It all blended in smoothly and the finish is now perfect.
It feels good to have given part of the house a burst of colour to make it our own!
Tuesday, 24 December 2013
#ShareAdvent Day 24: Family Traditions
I'm not necessarily one for lots of nostalgia, but there's something about Christmas, and there's something about Christmas food that throws that idea out of the window. Every family does it differently; every family has their own dishes they like to have on the table.
I love Christmas food à la family Frances - the chocolate coins in shoes on 6 December and salami and plain crisps as a pre-Christmas-lunch snack (both instigated from my father's German side and the latter carried on today as it's just too delicious a combination); the smell of homemade mince pies even though I won't eat them, and homemade cheese straws and sausage rolls, both of which I will eat plenty of.
The one dish I have never come across anywhere else, though, is Noel Cakes. Christmas Eve as a child was often spent in the kitchen, rolling red marzipan into vague berry shapes while my mother cut out holly leaves from green marzipan and 'Nine Lessons and Carols' played on the radio. I never realised other people don't have these cakes until one year at junior school when a class discussion on Christmas food resulted in a teacher telling me that she'd never heard of them and they couldn't be real. I was very confused - I'd eaten a LOT of these to date so they had to exist.
So, to put an end to that madness, here are Noel Cakes:
NOEL CAKES (makes approx 24)
Ingredients
Method
Any spare undecorated cakes can be decorated with blue icing and a yellow marzipan/sugarpaste star for 6 January - voilà, Epiphany Cakes.
I love Christmas food à la family Frances - the chocolate coins in shoes on 6 December and salami and plain crisps as a pre-Christmas-lunch snack (both instigated from my father's German side and the latter carried on today as it's just too delicious a combination); the smell of homemade mince pies even though I won't eat them, and homemade cheese straws and sausage rolls, both of which I will eat plenty of.
The one dish I have never come across anywhere else, though, is Noel Cakes. Christmas Eve as a child was often spent in the kitchen, rolling red marzipan into vague berry shapes while my mother cut out holly leaves from green marzipan and 'Nine Lessons and Carols' played on the radio. I never realised other people don't have these cakes until one year at junior school when a class discussion on Christmas food resulted in a teacher telling me that she'd never heard of them and they couldn't be real. I was very confused - I'd eaten a LOT of these to date so they had to exist.
So, to put an end to that madness, here are Noel Cakes:
NOEL CAKES (makes approx 24)
Ingredients
- 4 oz butter
- 4 oz caster sugar
- 2 eggs
- 6 oz plain flour
- 4 oz ground almonds
- 1 tsp baking powder
- milk as necessary
Method
- Preheat oven to around Gas Mark 4/ 180 C/ 350 F.
- Cream together butter and sugar until light and creamy.
- Beat in the egg a little at a time.
- Add the flour, ground almonds and baking powder.
- Add milk a little at a time until a 'dropping consistency' is obtained. The mixture should fall off the spoon fairly easily but not be runny.
- Pour the mixture into muffin tins, half filling each cup.
- Bake for approx 10-15 minutes until the tops are slightly springy to the touch. Because of the ground almonds, the cakes don't really change colour or rise.
- Leave to cool on a cooling rack.
Any spare undecorated cakes can be decorated with blue icing and a yellow marzipan/sugarpaste star for 6 January - voilà, Epiphany Cakes.
Monday, 23 December 2013
#ShareAdvent Day 23: "There's no place like home..."
I'm too, too excited about this post. After two or so years of looking, and 44 house viewings this year alone, we're moving to our forever house in January:
This is our new front door. The photo isn't great because I took it on Tuesday night when we'd just picked up the keys after two days of chasing estate agents and being on the phone to our solicitor (who I'm not sure we can ever thank enough!), but I was eager to take a few photos despite the darkness and rain! If you've read Alan's recent posts you'll know all about the fun we had trying to get to completion.
So - we have the keys, the moving van is booked and this is going to be our home, we're hoping, for as many years as possible. We'll put a few photos up as we move in, get curtains, paint walls and buy some more furniture, but for now, here's a taster:
There has to be one room which is the heart of the home - and for us, it will undoubtedly be the kitchen. We're planning to put a big table and chairs in the middle, and a comfy sofa in the left hand corner (just off camera to the left), hopefully to make this a room where people come and stay for hours.
There's no place like home - roll on 6 January...
Sunday, 22 December 2013
2013: A Year of Change
About a year ago I wrote a round-up of 2012. Whenever I've read it since, it takes me right back there, to those moments, so I thought it might be nice to write a round up of 2013 too (apologies for the length!). It's been a year of ups and downs, of strong emotions and of meeting strangers who become friends. A year of change, but of feeling that everything this year has happened in order to be a foundation for the future.
January
When I left off, I was waiting to hear about whether I would be staying at my old firm upon qualification. As many of you will know from my angsty interview tweets, I didn't stay. It makes January a little tough, but I don't regret it. I still don't.
The first of my wedding dress fittings - slight anxiety about whether the dress will look how I want it to by May.
February
I finish my training contract and leave - to what, who knows?
A week's holiday in the sunshine of St Lucia - we climb the Gros Piton, but also spend plenty of time on the beach, reading - a new book courtesy of Any Other Woman's #AOWBookSwap and the lovely Lorna of The Lala Diaries who sends me "Life: An Unexploded Diagram" by Mal Peet. Well worth a read.
March
Interviews - some good, some less good. Nothing comes of any of them, although a firm in Bristol invites me to a second interview, which I end up turning down, and then angsting over whether I am doing the right thing.
We start finalising wedding details with various suppliers - it's all taking shape. Another dress fitting - starting to feel more positive about it now.
April
One month to our wedding and things are coming together. We meet our photographer for a wander round the local country park and some pre-wedding photos. It is a beautiful spring day and the daffodils are out in full force.
My hen party, a wonderful afternoon tea at the aptly named Chesterfield Hotel in Mayfair. They bring us extra sandwiches and scones and let me take home the few remaining cakes. This is followed by a night in watching films with my maid of honour, and then a spa day (my maid of honour has been busy!) so the two of us can have a proper catch up.
More interviews and rejections. Do I even want to be a lawyer any more? This is the happiest but also the most frustrating time.
May
Finishing all the details; spending a hilarious evening printing menus and orders of service, making sure we have enough that aren't offcentre/printed upside down/smudged. They look good.
Picking up the cheese. Picking up my dress and the suits. Picking up my mother. My maid of honour arriving. Sending Alan out for wine and snacks so us girls can paint our nails and watch countless episodes of Don't Tell the Bride.
Packing up the car and heading to our hotel and reception venue. Mini-smugness at bagging the bridal suite for two nights instead of one. Friends and family arriving. The 'doh' moment when my father rings from outside our house wondering why there's no-one there. A lovely evening meal with all the early arrivals; feeling a little emotional that all these people are here for us.
OUR WEDDING. The best day. I am beaming with joy just writing this.
A few days down in the Tamar Valley, just the two of us. We survive on cheese, cake, champagne and stories from the day. It rains. We don't care.
Picnic/drinks on Blackheath for my maid of honour's birthday. Relaxing in the chilly sunshine.
June
A party with the family-in-law as Alan's father celebrates a milestone birthday. I enjoy making the birthday cake and catching up from our wedding.
Time to enjoy summer in London - Pride and Prejudice in Regent's Park open air theatre. Magical fairy lights as night falls.
Race for Life with the ladies of Any Other Woman on one of the hottest days of the year (I don't run but provide cakes instead) - a chance to meet new friends, sit in the sunshine and eat burgers.
After so many hours of house viewings, we find one we love. We make an offer - it's accepted but we have to wait for them to find somewhere to move to. Fine. We're still excited beyond belief - no more house viewings! Hooray!
Interviews schminterviews. The one part of life that puts a dampener on things sometimes.
July
Interview; job offer, team lunch and first day in the office, all within a week. Panic - what to wear? Will I remember anything? It goes well and I'm enjoying getting back into the swing of things.
The house purchase is all quiet - but the house sale is going ahead so packing begins in earnest. Boxes, boxes, all around. We find somewhere to rent in the meantime.
A break in the form of afternoon tea for the two of us. There is a 'book of tea' to choose from - my kind of place!
August
We move house. The house purchase is quiet until the sellers suddenly say they may ask for more money. Alarm bells should have started ringing, but they are still quiet.
A wonderful weekend full of laughter,cider and a gazebo which nearly takes off in the wind, spent in the garden of my Aunt and Uncle with all my family, a rare chance to catch up with everyone.
A meeting for cake with some of the AOWettes. I'm glad these ladies are in my life.
Our anniversary weekend, spent wandering round Bath in the sunshine. Happy four years together!
September
My birthday and a frankly amazing 'Elmer the Elephant' birthday cake made by Alan. A lovely, quiet day with lots of cake.
We start the house viewings again. Fed up. Will we ever find another house we like?
October
Off to Birmingham for afternoon tea with some of the ladies (and adorable babies) of AOW, this time organised by Hollie of Tulips and Tea . A lovely relaxing afternoon with smart,funny ladies who I feel like I've known for years.
The email from the sellers (via the estate agent!) saying that they are no longer selling their house. Deflation. Tears. Now what? Do we go for the house we saw which was nice enough but which we'd want to sell in three or so years and which definitely isn't our forever house. Do we want to stay in London? We're not so sure anymore, it suddenly seems like the city is no longer for us. But where else?
A chance viewing of a couple of houses in Bishop's Stortford. We like one a lot, and arrange a second viewing. We love it. We make an offer. It's accepted. They want to complete before Christmas, but is this possible. Have we been here before? Trying not to get too excited.
Alan picks up some horrible lung infection/cold/unknown virus thing, and cannot stop coughing. It's heartwrenching to see him not being well. Lots of hugs and lemsip.
November
New Zealand, our honeymoon. A fortnight of amazing. A fortnight of us together, cruising the roads surrounded by mountains, rivers, volcanoes and vineyards. A fortnight of knowing more than ever that I have the best husband. Sorry. It's true. I got him.
The house purchase is steaming ahead. Can we feel hopeful yet?
Alan's birthday - a weekend of curry and the Science Museum to celebrate. Solar system birthday cake.
December
Decorating the tree and making gingerbread biscuits - beginnning to feel Christmassy, but not quite settled and it doesn't always feel quite as festive as it should. An evening catching up with friends over mulled wine brings more festive cheer.
A reminder that strangers can become friends, even when you first meet them online - beautifully thoughtful gifts received via #ODSS13 (organised by Olive Dragonfly) and lots of heartwarming blog posts, photos and tweets from people participating in #ShareAdvent (organised by Skin and Blister Blog, who incidentally is also my Secret Santa and has sent me such a thoughtful cake-related gift!).
A stressful couple of days as the sellers are still packing on the day we are supposed to complete but finally, the house is ours, we have the keys and we own our first home together. The more time we spend there, the more we love it. We will be moving to our forever house at the beginning of 2014, and I can't wait.
A wonderful Christmas to you all - and here's to 2014.
January
When I left off, I was waiting to hear about whether I would be staying at my old firm upon qualification. As many of you will know from my angsty interview tweets, I didn't stay. It makes January a little tough, but I don't regret it. I still don't.
The first of my wedding dress fittings - slight anxiety about whether the dress will look how I want it to by May.
February
I finish my training contract and leave - to what, who knows?
A week's holiday in the sunshine of St Lucia - we climb the Gros Piton, but also spend plenty of time on the beach, reading - a new book courtesy of Any Other Woman's #AOWBookSwap and the lovely Lorna of The Lala Diaries who sends me "Life: An Unexploded Diagram" by Mal Peet. Well worth a read.
March
Interviews - some good, some less good. Nothing comes of any of them, although a firm in Bristol invites me to a second interview, which I end up turning down, and then angsting over whether I am doing the right thing.
We start finalising wedding details with various suppliers - it's all taking shape. Another dress fitting - starting to feel more positive about it now.
April
One month to our wedding and things are coming together. We meet our photographer for a wander round the local country park and some pre-wedding photos. It is a beautiful spring day and the daffodils are out in full force.
My hen party, a wonderful afternoon tea at the aptly named Chesterfield Hotel in Mayfair. They bring us extra sandwiches and scones and let me take home the few remaining cakes. This is followed by a night in watching films with my maid of honour, and then a spa day (my maid of honour has been busy!) so the two of us can have a proper catch up.
More interviews and rejections. Do I even want to be a lawyer any more? This is the happiest but also the most frustrating time.
May
Finishing all the details; spending a hilarious evening printing menus and orders of service, making sure we have enough that aren't offcentre/printed upside down/smudged. They look good.
Picking up the cheese. Picking up my dress and the suits. Picking up my mother. My maid of honour arriving. Sending Alan out for wine and snacks so us girls can paint our nails and watch countless episodes of Don't Tell the Bride.
Packing up the car and heading to our hotel and reception venue. Mini-smugness at bagging the bridal suite for two nights instead of one. Friends and family arriving. The 'doh' moment when my father rings from outside our house wondering why there's no-one there. A lovely evening meal with all the early arrivals; feeling a little emotional that all these people are here for us.
OUR WEDDING. The best day. I am beaming with joy just writing this.
A few days down in the Tamar Valley, just the two of us. We survive on cheese, cake, champagne and stories from the day. It rains. We don't care.
Picnic/drinks on Blackheath for my maid of honour's birthday. Relaxing in the chilly sunshine.
June
A party with the family-in-law as Alan's father celebrates a milestone birthday. I enjoy making the birthday cake and catching up from our wedding.
Time to enjoy summer in London - Pride and Prejudice in Regent's Park open air theatre. Magical fairy lights as night falls.
Race for Life with the ladies of Any Other Woman on one of the hottest days of the year (I don't run but provide cakes instead) - a chance to meet new friends, sit in the sunshine and eat burgers.
After so many hours of house viewings, we find one we love. We make an offer - it's accepted but we have to wait for them to find somewhere to move to. Fine. We're still excited beyond belief - no more house viewings! Hooray!
Interviews schminterviews. The one part of life that puts a dampener on things sometimes.
July
Interview; job offer, team lunch and first day in the office, all within a week. Panic - what to wear? Will I remember anything? It goes well and I'm enjoying getting back into the swing of things.
The house purchase is all quiet - but the house sale is going ahead so packing begins in earnest. Boxes, boxes, all around. We find somewhere to rent in the meantime.
A break in the form of afternoon tea for the two of us. There is a 'book of tea' to choose from - my kind of place!
August
We move house. The house purchase is quiet until the sellers suddenly say they may ask for more money. Alarm bells should have started ringing, but they are still quiet.
A wonderful weekend full of laughter,cider and a gazebo which nearly takes off in the wind, spent in the garden of my Aunt and Uncle with all my family, a rare chance to catch up with everyone.
A meeting for cake with some of the AOWettes. I'm glad these ladies are in my life.
Our anniversary weekend, spent wandering round Bath in the sunshine. Happy four years together!
September
My birthday and a frankly amazing 'Elmer the Elephant' birthday cake made by Alan. A lovely, quiet day with lots of cake.
We start the house viewings again. Fed up. Will we ever find another house we like?
October
Off to Birmingham for afternoon tea with some of the ladies (and adorable babies) of AOW, this time organised by Hollie of Tulips and Tea . A lovely relaxing afternoon with smart,funny ladies who I feel like I've known for years.
The email from the sellers (via the estate agent!) saying that they are no longer selling their house. Deflation. Tears. Now what? Do we go for the house we saw which was nice enough but which we'd want to sell in three or so years and which definitely isn't our forever house. Do we want to stay in London? We're not so sure anymore, it suddenly seems like the city is no longer for us. But where else?
A chance viewing of a couple of houses in Bishop's Stortford. We like one a lot, and arrange a second viewing. We love it. We make an offer. It's accepted. They want to complete before Christmas, but is this possible. Have we been here before? Trying not to get too excited.
Alan picks up some horrible lung infection/cold/unknown virus thing, and cannot stop coughing. It's heartwrenching to see him not being well. Lots of hugs and lemsip.
November
New Zealand, our honeymoon. A fortnight of amazing. A fortnight of us together, cruising the roads surrounded by mountains, rivers, volcanoes and vineyards. A fortnight of knowing more than ever that I have the best husband. Sorry. It's true. I got him.
The house purchase is steaming ahead. Can we feel hopeful yet?
Alan's birthday - a weekend of curry and the Science Museum to celebrate. Solar system birthday cake.
December
Decorating the tree and making gingerbread biscuits - beginnning to feel Christmassy, but not quite settled and it doesn't always feel quite as festive as it should. An evening catching up with friends over mulled wine brings more festive cheer.
A reminder that strangers can become friends, even when you first meet them online - beautifully thoughtful gifts received via #ODSS13 (organised by Olive Dragonfly) and lots of heartwarming blog posts, photos and tweets from people participating in #ShareAdvent (organised by Skin and Blister Blog, who incidentally is also my Secret Santa and has sent me such a thoughtful cake-related gift!).
A stressful couple of days as the sellers are still packing on the day we are supposed to complete but finally, the house is ours, we have the keys and we own our first home together. The more time we spend there, the more we love it. We will be moving to our forever house at the beginning of 2014, and I can't wait.
A wonderful Christmas to you all - and here's to 2014.
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
Making a House a Home - Getting in the Door
We finally picked up the keys to our new house at 7:45pm last night (thanks to a kindly local estate agent who was willing to drive them over out of hours).
We were due to get them by 1pm on Monday and had taken time off work in anticipation, arriving in the area early to be nearby when we got "the call".
At 1pm we were told a moving van had turned up late and that they needed another hour. Fair enough.
At 3pm we were told the van they had been sent was too small, that another was being sent, but that we were definitely getting in before 5pm (which is the time when the solicitor's office closed, making completion impossible). Annoying, but ok - we'll sit here singing Christmas Carols to pass the time ...
At 5pm we were sat in our car at the top of their road clearly able to see that they were nowhere near finishing packing.
Deflated, we arranged to return first thing Tuesday morning to collect the keys and race to work (Frances having used up her final available day's holiday) and asked our solicitor to request that they reimburse us for our incurred expenses.
So we were there at first light to meet the poor estate agent who had agreed to come over especially early to let us confirm that the property had been property vacated. Apparently they had finally moved out by ... 1am.
A quick check confirmed that all was in order, we placed the call to our solicitor to have her release the money and confirm completion ... only to be told that they were refusing to reimburse us a penny for Monday. (Even if you ignore the value of the wasted day off work, we had incurred additional legal fees, and spent a fortune on petrol, parking and train fares due to their error.)
We asked our solicitor to push back and there followed an hour and a half of confusion, frustration and anger until, at 10:30am, we found out that the seller's solicitor had actually been unable to get in touch with them all morning (they were asleep after their late night!) so we raced off to work desperately hoping that people there would forgive us for missing most of the morning.
Everything was resolved during the day and we finally completed at 4pm, collecting the keys when we could get there after work.
The joy is only matched by the relief that the process is over and we can begin building our new life here in earnest.
We were due to get them by 1pm on Monday and had taken time off work in anticipation, arriving in the area early to be nearby when we got "the call".
At 1pm we were told a moving van had turned up late and that they needed another hour. Fair enough.
At 3pm we were told the van they had been sent was too small, that another was being sent, but that we were definitely getting in before 5pm (which is the time when the solicitor's office closed, making completion impossible). Annoying, but ok - we'll sit here singing Christmas Carols to pass the time ...
At 5pm we were sat in our car at the top of their road clearly able to see that they were nowhere near finishing packing.
Deflated, we arranged to return first thing Tuesday morning to collect the keys and race to work (Frances having used up her final available day's holiday) and asked our solicitor to request that they reimburse us for our incurred expenses.
So we were there at first light to meet the poor estate agent who had agreed to come over especially early to let us confirm that the property had been property vacated. Apparently they had finally moved out by ... 1am.
A quick check confirmed that all was in order, we placed the call to our solicitor to have her release the money and confirm completion ... only to be told that they were refusing to reimburse us a penny for Monday. (Even if you ignore the value of the wasted day off work, we had incurred additional legal fees, and spent a fortune on petrol, parking and train fares due to their error.)
We asked our solicitor to push back and there followed an hour and a half of confusion, frustration and anger until, at 10:30am, we found out that the seller's solicitor had actually been unable to get in touch with them all morning (they were asleep after their late night!) so we raced off to work desperately hoping that people there would forgive us for missing most of the morning.
Everything was resolved during the day and we finally completed at 4pm, collecting the keys when we could get there after work.
The joy is only matched by the relief that the process is over and we can begin building our new life here in earnest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)