Apparently, I’ve been a bookfacer for ten years. Facebook told me, so it must be true. It even offered a pictorial summary of my “faceversary” that I could share with my friends [sic]. I didn’t.
There seem to be a lot of “this is what I was doing xx years ago” posts on farcebroke. What’s that all about? Is no one doing anything interesting anymore, so relying on old posts to justify their existence?
I was thinking of making some changes to my mortgage so went to the local branch of the building society to make an appointment with a mortgage advisor to get some ideas of feasibility.
“Can I make an appointment to see a mortgage adviser?” I asked.
“what’s it about?”
“well, … a mortgage” I replied, thinking that that should have been self-explanatory.
Anyway, I couldn’t see a mortgage advisor until I phoned a central number to get an affordability assessment. I’d have thought that part of the role of a mortgage advisor is to advise me on what I can afford, but never mind.
I gave them a call. They couldn’t do much until I know how much I need to borrow and have a property to buy. And they couldn’t make an appointment with the mortgage advisor because “we don’t keep the diaries”. But they did give me the phone number of the local branch so I can make an appointment to see a mortgage advisor. Which is what I wanted in the first place. Conclusion of this rigmarole: building societies are as bad at customer service as banks.
Meanwhile, back home, I’ve finally got around to having my bathroom refurbished. I would say it’s been overdue since I bought the flat over five years ago, but the 1970s design suggests it has been overdue for far longer than that. Currently I have a toilet, but no washing facilities – other than filling a bowl at the kitchen sink and carrying that to the bathroom. It’s like living back in Victorian times.
We went to a beer festival on Saturday. A group of us went and we had a fun evening chatting and catching up. And the beer was good. On the way home, we went to see some more friends – they are night owls so didn’t mind our turning up at gone 10:00.
They are having some major renovation work done on their house – virtually a demolition and rebuild. Currently only the outer walls – to ground floor height - and a few inner walls are standing. No roof, no floors, not many inner walls. The family are camping in a caravan in the back garden – with luck they will back in the house by Christmas. Better them than me; it certainly puts my bathroom refurbishment into perspective.
The beer festival was a few miles away, at the other end of Chigley, so we cycled there and back. It was pleasant cycling home at around midnight; little traffic on the road so we were able to cycle alongside each other. And we saw a fox.
We enjoyed cycling so much that on Sunday we cycled to visit another friend – who told us about a short cut we could take on the way home. OK the sign sad “no cycling” but my bicycle can’t read.
CGF was confused as to why she kept getting adverts for bunk beds – particularly three-tier bunk beds – on web pages. After a while she realised what was going on. The advert algorithm had picked up her searches for “three bed”, but not registered the rest of the search: “room houses”.
I’ve lost my glasses. I put them down somewhere on Tuesday evening but cannot find where. I’ve had to resort to my sunglasses – which are OK, but does make it appear very dark when driving at night. It’s not too bad – I’d already ordered a new pair that I pick up on Saturday. I had my eyes tested last week - you’ll never guess who I bumped into on my way to the opticians … absolutely everyone.
CGF and CS3 waited at the optician while I had the eye test. “you can help me choose some new glasses” I said, when I came out. “I already have done” was the reply.
They may be a bit on an underlying theme to the paragraphs in this post. Have you noticed? Houses, mortgages, bathroom renovation, visiting friends …
CGF is no longer CGF. She is now … (drum roll) … THE FUTURE MRS BAREFOOT XXX XXX