I'm Baaaaaack!

Whew! What a couple of months!

First was the horrendous move - to date, the only thing smooth about the move was the purchase of our lovely new dining table. Everything else has been so horrendous it borders on the funny (but isn't). I've been telling G/S/N that I'm going to turn into one of those people that never leaves their house and cuts off all contact with the outside world. I'll grow my own vegetables in our tiny garden and order everything else in (at least the groceries are coming).

Where to even start? The issues with the house sale and purchase were not unexpected, so I won't even go into that; that's just a normal part of living in England. But after that. AFTER that. I start shaking just thinking about it all.

Top of the list has to be British Telecom. What an experience. First it took a week for them to come and do the cabling and jointing. But that wasn't so bad. It was the SEVEN WEEKS we had to then wait for them to come and do the ducting. What is that all about? My neighbours got to know me very well as the crazy pregnant lady, as my mobile doesn't work in the house and I had to conduct all of my (very expensive) phone calls on my front porch. No wonder no one introduced themselves to me when I was out there; all they ever saw me do was shout and cry.

G/S/N says that I shouldn't be surprised - I should expect this from any company that has a name beginning with 'British'. But the kicker was when I called the 'escalation' number given to me by Ofcom (the telcom regulator): they told me there was nothing they could do ("Sorry!") and that there was no one to escalate TO. But that they logged my complaint. I suppose the most diplomatic thing was not to declare,"So what is it you actually DO there? What use are you, exactly? If all you do is log complaints and don't actually DO anything about them?" That is what really astounds me - that there is a whole department being employed by BT that sits there all day, picking up the phone, and logging complaints into a black hole.

The next on the list was Laura Ashley. I ordered a (very expensive) bed for Kate - it was to be her new 'Princess Bed' that also doubled as guest sleeping (it had a trundle bed that could either be another twin bed or combine with the main bed to make a king-sized bed). It took 9 weeks to get here (a tad long, but I was forewarned). That's when the fun and games started. First they 'failed' the delivery because the driver had the wrong address and when he went to the (wrong) place there was no one home (I had called them twice to confirm directions and the address as this is a new development and I knew the post code was not necessarily on people's systems yet); then they said it would take a further three days to re-deliver (he was literally only ten minutes down the road at the point where I called them back) because the bed had to be 'reinspected' for damage after being on the lorry; when it finally arrived, there was a main part of the bed that was not welded on - obviously the inspection was thorough - and the bed had to be sent away (all this while Kate was downstairs dancing around, singing, "new bed, new bed!"). They finally called me back A WEEK LATER (after repeated chasers from me) to tell me it would be ANOTHER 8-10 WEEKS to get a replacement bed out to me! You can bet I told them where to stick the bed and all its broken parts. So visitors will have to make do with the floor. Sorry guys.

I'll just leave it at those two biggies and spare you the rest. It's enough to bring tears to my eyes again just thinking about it all.

Next post will be more entertaining. Promise. Really.