Finally, here's this weeks update of Egyptian Tablet:
I stitched on it Tuesday and Wednesday night again. A bit disappointed, as I thought I'd achieve a bit more than that, but I guess any kind of progress is good.
Here's where I left off the Christmas Chick after the frog visit:
I haven't stitched since Wednesday night, just haven't been in the mood, but hope to get back into the swing tonight as it would be nice to finish the chickadee over the weekend, then maybe I can start the Jayne's Attic/Alchemy Humbug SAL next week. Yes, I know, it's already started but: better late than never. ;0)
The first thing to get me distracted this week is the solicitors re: the Land Registry procedure for Dad's house. Some jobsworth at the LR Office has decided they need a copy of our Mum's death certificate and proof that the house is worth what we stated. Fair enough on Mum's certificate: they need to have proof that Mum, whose name remained on the house deeds, is no longer here and we're not trying to screw her out of anything (as if we would!!!) but the house price? We took a couple of cuttings of equivalent type houses for sale in the same and next street to us and came up with the value that way, as suggested by our solicitor, for the Probate Office. The Probate Office were quite happy to accept that and probate went through without a problem............ so why isn't that good enough for the LR people??? They're both government offices, with (presumably) the PO being the more important, as that concerns the Tax Office trying to get more money out of you after you're dead, so why the hell don't they talk to one another??? Better still, why can't they get on the internet and check local house prices on there and save some time/hassle?
The solicitors secretary dared to tell my DSis that she would have to get the house valued: she told her no she wouldn't, as we were not going to incur any more costs - if the PO were happy to accept the valuation then the LR Office could damned well do the same! Our solicitor has since rang and apologised and DSis has sent them the DC and another newspaper clipping of a house for sale on the next street that is identical, plus in the same condition, and is actually going for less than the price we stated - bet we won't get anything knocked off the LR fees for that though! Here we were, thinking everything would be done and dusted before Christmas and it now looks like it won't be. >:-(
Then DH threw me off kilter yesterday morning when, on waking up, he announced that we'd got a Dentist visit at 4pm that day. Going to see the Dentist isn't my favourite way of spending my time and has, in the past, been responsible for setting me off with a panic attack, so this is how it works: when I've got a tooth problem I mention it to DH; DH then eventually gets around to making us an appointment, without telling me; DH is then supposed to give me a warning the day before the appointment, so I can make sure I will be presentable enough and, hopefully, in the right frame of mind for going and not giving me a chance to get overly wound-up about it. Well, I certainly didn't get chance for that!
I really hate walking into the place: that first waft of air, a combination of that medicated mouth wash and whatever else they use, just makes me want to retch. The procedure when we get there is: we are both called into the Dentist's room together (they know what I'm like); I get in the chair and have my check-up first, telling the chap what my problem is, he'll examine my teeth then tells me what needs doing and giving me the options for treatment, I pick one and remind him I want sedation; I then grab my stuff and leg-it out back to the waiting room as fast as I can, leaving DH to have his check-up; when he gets out we are given quotes for the treatment and I sign mine; I then leg-it outside, leaving DH to make the appointments for treatment and he keeps that all to himself until I need to know. Getting myself to go there on treatment days is a case of forcing myself to do it - once I'm there and the chap is getting me ready for the injection I know I'm going to be unconscious, so I'm not bothered and when I'm unconscious I don't care. :0) It's good stuff that injection: I highly recommend it! LOL
To cheer ourselves up after getting the quotes (we both need a big filling and crowns fitting, so that's the best part of £750 worth of treatment between us - faint!) we walked down to our local chip shop's Restaurant for a fish and chip tea. It's the first time we've been in there: nice atmosphere, pleasantly busy, friendly staff and very nice meal - although, if we go again, I'll be going for the small portion. My fish was so big I reckon it must have been on steroids!
Karen: ROFL at your magazine surfing. Luckily my DH just sits there contemplating - usually his navel - so I haven't tried that. Maybe we should get it introduced as a new Olympic sport and see if you could win us a gold medal. LOL :0) BTW, thank you for my card and watch out for the postie. ;0)
Sally: OK about the chart. Now you mention it, I think it was in one of the mags, though I can't remember which one for the life of me.
Julie: sorry, I'll try not to give too much information in future - hope the mental image wasn't too traumatising and you're now fully recovered. ROFL :0)
Thank you all for visiting and I hope you have a good weekend. :0)