Sounds like rain

All you New Zealanders would feel completely at home, instead of rain on a tin roof we have rain on a perspex roof - sounds just the same. This is the first rain for about 10 days and welcomed by those who need the stuff - personally, I can do without it. Still, it is harder for Maureen cause she has to go and put the chickens to bed. Fortunately for me it was not raining when we made sure the geese we tucked up safely away from the foxes earlier this evening.

After a very pleasant dinner at Ticton Grange on Sunday, where I had the restaurant all to myself, I spent the night from 12 till time to get up wide awake. So, I thought today would be pretty awful, and I would need to borrow matchsticks to stay awake, but no, today was VERY successful. After a shaky start where the storage man (Derek, or fabulous Derek as I came to call him) denied all knowledge of why I was there, declared the impossibility of what I wanted and generally did a lot of teeth sucking, we managed to sort 4x20 cubic metre storage containers so that 1 got sent for shipping, rubbish thrown away and the contents of the other got spread out so that the auctioneers, who are coming tomorrow, can view them - and all in 3 1/2 hours! Pretty impressive, no?

Derek is an expert shipper and teaches classes in shipping (yes it is true), had walked all the peaks in the Lake District before he was 16, has 5 siblings, one son (chronically disabled) and a wife who he adores. I told him I did not want to have any more than 1 container, and, bless him, everything I wanted to put in he said he could find room for - even after I kept adding this and that and abit of the other. So, all I have to put in is Rob's bike, and Gary is putting that on his trailer to take from the house to Kidds on Wednesday.

It was lovely to see Gary again and to catch up on the harrowing family eventsof the last two years. But they - Gary, Ben and Bianca - all seem to becoming through and surviving. The same is not true of Anne-Marie, whose lifeis descending into alcohol and chaos from which neither she nor anyone else can save her - so, so sad.

Continuing my efficiency I saw our house management agents and got all sorts of things agreed with them; I talked to our estate agents and got good advice from, another, Derek. Because of all of this I think it might just be possible to finish here by end of business on Wednesday!

I was early to arrive at David and Maureen's, so I took the opportunity to look around Hunmanby, a small town on the edge of the North Yorks moors. Requisite Norman church, 2 pubs, 1 hotel, 1 of most kinds of shop including a florist come fruit shop and a shop selling an eclectic mix of fresh pies/bread/pizza and home made preserve and pickles - as well as,importantly, Yorkshire Tea, for all you tea enthusiasts.

I decided to go to the pub. Have you ever walked into a room and had EVERYONE stop and look at you? I thought that only happened in bad detective films, but no, it happens in North Yorks pubs. I reckoned they were up to something illegal to do with CD/DVD's and were just checking I was not the local police. They all turned out to be really nice and helpful and I think I was the first person ever to be served coffee in that pub. But it gave me the opportunity to sit and read and watch for a while, which was extremely pleasant.

So now I am sitting with Maureen and Polly, who is a beautiful and intelligent black lab (David is out at a Parish meeting in his role as local councillor), with the rain beating on the conservatory roof, while we inside are toasty and warm. Who could want for more. Till later, love to all. Ann