Stupidity, incompetence, and lies

At settlement I had a couple of cheques issued in my name, the larger of which was in the region of $90,000. The cheque was not drawn at my request and was done due to absent mindedness, error in judgment, or incompetence by the people undertaking settlement on my behalf.

I had rang David, from Virgin Money when I first got wind of it as I was concerned I hadn’t completed all the various forms exactly as required. He telephoned to say I had completed everything correctly. So why did the Virgin agent and my solicitor go making decisions on their own and fowling things up? My solicitor had said she was advised by Virgin to draw the $90,000 cheque. It could have been that the Virgin agent knew little about banking, nor how to conduct a property settlement. It could have been that the solicitor had little regard for my interests. I don’t know what it was, but someone had goofed. No one sought advice from me. If there was any doubt they should have contacted me and asked.

I rang Wridgways to find out when our furniture would be delivered. It would be delivered on the 4th July. Now that’s curious, considering Wridgways in Melbourne said our things would be delivered definitely before July. It sounds as though Mark De Lacy, the Melbourne Wridgways guy, was making things up when he said our furniture would be delivered before the end of the month.

Is that the technique? Whenever there is a problem, just open your mouth and tell the punters a whole heap of crap. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not just smooth the waters to get them out of your hair. Well, it fitted with the whole Wridgways experience.

Life in the new house begins

I was still feeling exhausted, and my day at work on Friday seemed to come and go without much input from me.

Normality is beginning to return, and on Saturday we went shopping for a new washing machine. Our last machine was taken to the dump as a lost cause, after it died in a fit of smoke and sparks. Is this domestic bliss returning?

Some time to recover

Back at work again. I seemed to in a daze and not able to concentrate on much. I guess I was still recovering from our efforts in Melbourne. I could barely focus on work except to check a few emails and not much more.

I dropped off the campervan jacks at my local garage to see what they could do with them. My campervan is still in Melbourne because I couldn’t load it on the ute, because two of the jack stands had seized. Though, I don’t hold out much hope for the repair. I checked on the web to see where replacements come from; not finding much.

Melbourne to Canberra

It was very late when we left. We had said to Melody we’d phone when we leave, but that didn’t work out. I doubt she’d appreciate being wakened at 4.00am.

We were both desperately craving sleep, but we had to continue working. Our cats had been drugged in readiness for the trip, but seemed wide awake. We got some drugs from the vet; cat valium, I guess. It was almost time to leave and we couldn’t get them to pee. Then they started to become wobbly on their feet, which was so bizarre to see. Drunken cats!

S wanted more things loaded into the cars. There wasn’t room. There should be a rule when packing. Namely: if one person is doing the packing and the other is bringing the stuff out. The rule is, when the car is almost full, but not completely full, the packing person should make an announcement: “Hey, the car is full.” That way, when the other ‘last minute’ items that must be packed are eventually brought out, and they will, there will be room for them. Of course, I guess you could just survey all the stuff that has to go and try and make an estimate. This is a difficult time.

To my regret I got grumpy with S. My grumpiness came out in my manner and in the things I said. I tried not to grump, but stuff slipped out. I was too self-absorbed in packing the car that I didn’t appreciate what S was going through in the house. I expect lack of sleep may have contributed. We had been going at it all day, and into the evening, and now it was some ridiculous time in the early hours of the morning.

So that was it. We weren’t able to shift everything, but we were out of the house. S had left a bottle of champagne as a welcoming gift for Melody. I had a final quick look around the house one last time; to make sure everything was out. And I took a few photos for the memory of it all. S wasn’t interested. I think she had had enough of it and just wanted to go.

So, we got under way, and with just a few hours remaining before sunrise we hit the road. We’d been on the road for less than an hour and I was hanging out for a place to pull over and sleep. I couldn’t go on. I spotted a parking bay. The first one on the Hume Highway just north of Melbourne past Craigieburn. I had to stop and rest. We slept for about an hour. It’s difficult to sleep in a sitting position. There was no possibility of stretching out because both cars were packed to the brim. There was no real sleep here. It was just a rest, and the rest didn’t seem to help that much. We were both still tired.

We were disturbed by dozens of trucks zooming by and shaking the car as they went. We eventually got on our way again. I’m supposed to be back at work in a few hours’ time. Ha. Oh, yeah, right.

I had Squeak in a cat box in the EXA, and she was surprisingly well behaved for the scaredy cat she is. S had Elsa also in a cat box, in the ute, and she may have had a reaction to the sedative we gave them before the trip because she was farting all the time and stinking up the car. Poor S had to put up with the smell. We drove for another hour or so, and I had to pull over at a service centre. Another place to park and sleep. We slept for another hour which again was another horrible rest. The cold weather didn’t help any.

We had a snack before leaving, and with daylight’s arrival staying awake was beginning to become easier. Then I had an interesting experience with a couple of police officers in the middle of nowhere somewhere between Melbourne and Canberra. I can’t remember where. Things were a bit hazy you must understand.

The road ahead was just a blur. A strip of grey-black that wriggled and rolled around in front of me, sometimes passing through towns, sometimes not. I’ve never been on such a boring horrible trip. Anyway, somewhere in the middle of nowhere David, my Virgin Home Loans contact, called to congratulate me that settlement went through, which was really nice of him. While on the phone, I spotted a cop car driving by in the opposite direction. The section of the road I was on was straight but undulating a bit. The cop car was over the hill and out of sight behind me in a few seconds.

I had a notion they might have spotted me with the phone to my ear. I pulled off the highway as far over into the dirt as I could, and stopped. I switched off the engine, continued talking to David on the phone, and waited. Either nothing would happen or there’d be a tap on the window.

The journey from Melbourne to Canberra is about an eight hour drive. What are the chances of someone calling, and a cop car passing, just at that instant? For the few seconds it takes to pick up the phone when it rings, why that particular time? The gods were against me. Had the call come at any other time or even a couple of seconds later this would not have happened. Bizarre.

I can just imagine it. Two cops driving and one eagle eye says to the other, “He’s on the phone. Got one.” They screeched to a halt, chucked a u-turn, on with the flashing lights, and raced after me. They probably thought it’d be something to do on a quiet afternoon.

So, I’m sitting there in the car, parked at the side of the road, and a moment later I caught sight of some flashing lights in the rear view mirror. A cop car was pulling up behind me. They didn’t stop me; I was already parked by the roadside. A knock at the window, and the young police officer says he saw me on the phone when they passed. They must have good eyes.

I admitted it. I couldn’t deny it. I still had the phone to my ear. I rang off, and gave my attention to the policeman. I said as soon as it rang I pulled to the side of the road. That’s difficult to dispute, particularly with me parked as I was. He said that I shouldn’t have answered it, and issued a warning. That was a narrow escape. I wonder how it would have gone had I kept driving.

Our traditional stopping spots when travelling on the Hume Highway were MacDonald’s (near Glenrowan) and at Gundagai. At both stops we allowed Elsa and Squeak a breath of fresh air outside the cars, and perhaps to take a toilet break. But at Glenrowan they didn’t want to leave the safety of their cat boxes. Squeak came out of her box at Gundagai. We put a leash on her, but she didn’t want to explore. There were a few dogs around the place, which may have put her on edge. At one point Elsa squeezed into the same pet carrier as Squeak; poor things: scared.

We continued, and once again had a late arrival, but this time it was at our new house. B, our Canberra real estate agent, had left a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses for us, but we had too much to do to sit and drink it. Perhaps we should have had some. Wasn’t that nice of her? Isn’t that great marketing?

It's not coming together

We planned to vacate the house at Warrandyte at 8.00am, but it just wasn’t happening.

Despite what I thought was my diligence in packing our remaining stuff into cartons, S seemed to keep on bringing more and more stuff into the room. Was it breeding? Was I in the Twilight Zone? The lounge room looked a wreck. There was stuff everywhere. Then Melody came by to show off the house to one of her friends. Just what we needed!

I didn't know what to do with half the stuff. A few hurried visits to Fort Knox self storage helped, but not much. Our storage space at Fort Knox was now badly packed (which meant there was wasted space), but it was full. Some of the stuff in storage was precariously balanced too; I hope there’s not too much disturbance from passing trains vibrating the ground as they go by. It’ll all come tumbling down in a heap if the floor vibrates.

A trip to the dump was required, and while there I also took the opportunity to get rid of some good stuff by donating it to the recycle shop. This was a small thing, but despite hurrying it still took much more time than we could afford. This is actually a nice service the Nillumbik council provide. They run a shop at the dump. Anything that looks mildly valuable is put in the shop and sold. It’s a kind of a really down market op shop. It’s something that should be encouraged.

As a kid I used to love going to the dump. The treasures you could find at the dump kept me distracted for hours, and funnily enough I’ve still got one or two bottles I found as a kid.

We took some rubbish to the dump about three years ago during one of the council’s hard rubbish days, and noticed there was a pile of brick pavers there. Well, having a ute and seeing them looking quite good it didn’t take too much consideration to start loading them into the ute. There wasn't a huge number of pavers there, but there was a nice amount. We collected them and took them home, and within a few months we had dug out an area and paved an area in front of one of our park benches, and we built a raised garden bed next to it, and it all looked very nice.

Anyway, I'm getting distracted. There was still too much stuff remaining to be packed, and really no where for it to go. There was only one solution: it had to be left.

I rang Melody, and asked if we can leave some stuff at the house. She obliged. So, this was our situation:

• our immobile camper was now propped up and would stay
• the camper was packed full with stuff as a temporary measure
• more stuff (tools, steel, hardware) was stored below the camper,
• more stuff was stored in front of the camper
• pot plants were placed at the sides of the camper
• The garage bench was chockers full of stuff
• the space between the bench and the garage door was full of stuff
• the tool room which runs off the garage was also full
• there was also an overflow from the tool room into the garage, and
• the shelves in the garage also had our stuff on them.

There was obviously a lot to do still.

A duty of carelessness

The solicitor rang. She said, “Settlement went through without a problem.” This was really good to hear. And then she dropped a bombshell. She mentioned, in what seemed like a passing comment that there was a cheque for about $90,000 in my name. The cheque was in her office and ready to pick up.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

This was dumb to write a cheque. This amount was to remain in my home loan offset. I didn’t need this money as a cheque, cash, or anything else. This was an amount that was built into my home loan should I need cash for something in the future, but at the home loan interest rates.

The home loan interest is calculated on the amount that is borrowed. I had no intension of borrowing the full amount available to me, but now that a cheque has been issued the interest that will be calculated will be based on the full amount, rather than just the cost of the house. While these funds remained in the offset I would not be charged interest on them.

This offset amount was never actually intended to be borrowed. It was money for a rainy day; a kind of nest egg. However, now that a cheque has been issued I will be paying interest on an additional $90,000 that I have no need for. She said she “…was instructed by Virgin’s agent to draw all funds.” I find that difficult to believe. It was Virgin that had set up the offset. Surely, they knew what an offset was. Surely, they’d know they were going to send me a cheque book. Surely, they’d know I could write my own cheques whenever I wished. Whatever it was that happened between these two at settlement I’ll never know, but between the two of them they goofed badly, and stuffed me up into the bargain.

Put it back into the account, I said.
It can’t be done, the solicitor said.
Why not, I asked.
Because it’s in your name, she said.
I have no means to put it into my account, I said.
She said sorry.

Aggh!

Virgin Home Loans claim that one of the ways they keep their interest rates low is by having no shop front. With a bank you front up to one of their branch offices and carry out your business. With Virgin there is no branch office that you can visit to speak to someone from Virgin Money. Everything is done by phone, and if you want to make additional payments you go to your local Post Office with your special Virgin Home Loan ID card in hand and make the deposit, and your deposit gets directed into your account that’s encoded on the plastic card. This seems a simple process, and that’s how I would deposit the cheque into my home loan account. However, as a new customer Virgin Money hadn’t got around to sending this card. Without the card I can’t return the funds to my account. So, until the deposit card gets delivered I’m paying out more on interest than I need.

I think I just need to remind everyone about the people I’m dealing with: My home loan comes courtesy of Virgin Money who provided the cheque that I don’t need, and my solicitor who works with William Heague accepted this cheque without my instruction.

Both the lender and the solicitor appear to have shown little interest in my needs. Acted contrary to my wishes, in fact. You’d think with mobile phones someone might have spotted this whole situation as a bit odd, and thought, perhaps they should speak to me. But no, that was too difficult. Lazy sods. And to think these people bill for their services.

Canberra to Melbourne

On the trip back to Melbourne S drove the truck while I slept in the passenger seat. After a while, we took turns at driving while the other slept, finally arriving at Warrandyte in the early hours of the morning.

We could only afford a few hours sleep before getting up again to return the truck to the rental company by 8.00am. Though, to sleep in a decent bed was wonderful. It was only a mattress on the floor but it was Heaven.

I finished getting the anchor points fitted to the ute. Not a perfect job but good enough which will have to do until they can be tidied up later. I was content with my work, and ready to load the campervan. Then I discovered the campervan wouldn’t go on. This was devastating. I'd spent so much effort over the weeks to get to this stage, and now this. I could have wept.

The campervan is supported by four jack stands, with one positioned on each corner of the camper. Normally, it’s a simple matter of raising the van by using the jacks to lift it into the air, and when it is sufficiently high reversing the ute under it, then lowering the jacks to allow the van to settle onto the tray of the ute. The jacks unclip and are carried inside for storage until you get to your destination. Two of the four jacks were seized. I couldn't get them to move at all, and I felt that if I forced them something was going to break. I didn’t need this. Not now, when we have to be off the property.

There was no way I was going to be able to load the van without all four jacks. I slumped to the ground with my head in my hands and lent on my knees. I didn’t know what to do. I had to get them repaired or replaced. This was Saturday; nothing would be open even if I knew where to look.

I rang Melody regarding the problem, saying the van would have to stay on the block for a while until I got something worked out. Thankfully, she was accommodating.

Melbourne to Canberra

So, with S in the MR2, packed to the brim, me in the truck, we arrived in Canberra not at 11.00pm on the same day as we had hoped, but 8.00am on the next morning. It was a lousy trip. We were both tired. Watching the tail lights of the car in front bob around, rather than remain focused. Was that because they were bobbing around or because I was nodding? We took lots of breaks. S was driving behind me said she began to see a face on the back of the truck. I woke with a start at one point to the sound of a horn then realised I was leaning on the steering wheel. There was no way to get comfortable, and you can’t sleep in the driver’s seat.

It was early in Canberra when we arrived. I dropped off S at my lodgings. I’d previously flagged her arrival with my landlord. She went straight to bed. No sleep for me as yet, and I drove the truck to Flynn, which fortunately wasn’t too far away, to unload our stuff. We had made arrangements with the owners, who were still living in the house. They were happy for us to drop off our things. Anyway, most of the truck was loaded with pot plants and other bits and pieces that could stay outside or in the carport.

Gerald was there. He is a friend of the owners, and he helped me reverse the truck up the driveway, which was good of him. It would have been tricky on my own.

There was surprisingly little damage to the plants during the journey. The table tennis table had been set up as a table inside the truck on its trestle legs. I had screwed them open and linked them together with a piece of timber to prevent them moving during the trip. Having legs collapse during the trip would have been nasty. And it all worked very well.

I had placed large plants under the table with smaller pots on top. I also had a couple of pieces of steel reinforcing mesh; the type that concrete workers immerse inside concrete. I was going to leave this behind, not really having a use for it, and then S said it would easily go on the floor of the truck. In fact, it helped locate the plant pots in position and prevented them from moving around.

I was unloading the stuff, and the whole family turned out to greet me. K showed me through the house, offering me a coffee which was welcome, and we had a chat which I couldn’t afford. I wanted to get on with things, catch a nap, and get back to Melbourne, and I also had a very inquisitive little girl of theirs chatting and trying to help unload the stuff. What else can you do but go with the flow, and let her carry the odd thing. We were already a day behind because of the Wridgways removalist stuff up.

I had a worrying telephone conversation in the morning. My Canberra solicitor (Jaki) rang while I was unloading the truck to ask how I would be making the loan repayments. She said she had had someone on the phone from Virgin enquiring. I wonder why Virgin didn’t contact me directly. This was a bizarre question. Why didn’t they know this already? I’d already completed these details which were on the documentation that had been sent to me while in Melbourne, and had been returned to them. I told her how I’d completed the documentation and returned it by express mail. I was perplexed as to why they didn’t know, and said as much to Jaki. She was short with me saying that I’m not answering the question. She was rude. She worked with William Heague. I think it’s worth making a note of this. Anyway, she was correct; I wasn’t answering the question. I wanted her to tell me why they didn’t know something I’d only recently informed them of. She made no attempt to explain why they might be asking this, I provided the information, and she rang off. Virgin Home Loans or their legal people seem to be ignoring their own paperwork.

It’s bizarre that these legal people spend so much effort on sending documentation to customers, making it so difficult to cope with, and then when you return it to them including the basic information, like yeah, there will be a regular salary deduction toward the home loan, and they can’t read their own forms but have to ask you the same thing all over again. Nutty.

When the unloading was done I drove the truck to my digs.

I packed up the stuff that I had been collecting at my digs, loaded it into the truck. It was a handy bonus having the truck to do this. I drove it up to Flynn and unloaded it there. I had more stuff than I expected, filling the entire floor of the truck.

So, with the MR2 parked under the Flynn carport, we’re ready to set of on a return trip to Melbourne. Got to get the rental truck back to Melbourne before 8.00am. I’ll sleep in the truck while S drives.

Wridgways - a hired help company

We were up early again, this time to pick up the rental truck. We had booked a rental tuck from Europcar pretty much like this one. It was almost brand new with less than 10,000 kms on the clock. Very impressive! Driving something this size was quite an experience, but it was automatic which helped markedly. This was a small truck by any real standards, but seemed huge to me. It gave me a whole new level of respect for the skills of truck drivers.

The removalists had arrived after we’d left to pick up the truck, and when we got back I spotted the men hanging about not doing anything. I asked why they hadn’t started work. “There was no one here,” someone said, “and didn’t know what to do.” It would seem that Emily didn’t pass on our message to the men to say we’d be late, picking up our rental truck, and that they should start without us. Emily seems incompetent. I’m beginning to hate Wridgeways.

At least the men were on site and ready to go. They had brought a utility with them, and the lolly-pop men had arrived too. The plan was to drive their ute to the top of the driveway, load it with stuff, and then drive it down the drive and to an adjacent street where the truck was parked, and from there they did a swap from the ute to the truck. And presumably, the lolly-pop men held slow signs when the ute was entering or leaving the driveway. They were slow at first as the ticketing was being completed and while they got used to driving up and down the drive, but the pace quickened.

It was a frantic day.

S cleared out the attic, and passed furniture and boxes down the stairs to me. Funny how I’d forgotten how things got up there in the first place, when trying to get things down. Were they assembled or disassembled prior to putting them up there? I was washing out compost bins, coiling up garden hoses, and collecting garden tools. A lot of this stuff should have been done before, but there didn’t seem to be time.

We have an antique wardrobe. A brilliantly conceived piece where the top, bottom, back, mirror, and doors all separate for transport, and everything is held together with specially made wooden wedges and brackets. The wardrobe fell apart as one of the men tried to disassemble it. He said he knew what to do, but obviously he didn't have a clue. Then someone carrying part of the disassembled wardrobe on his shoulder scraped the polished wooden surface of the linen press while walking through the hallway. Hired help.

I was following this guy and saw him scratching the woodwork. He was unaware of what he’d done. I quickly grabbed the trailing end of it to steady it as he went. “Have you been working for Wridways long?” I asked. “No, it’s my first time,” and added, “and it’ll probably be my last.” This was probably a rather good plan if people’s houses and property is to be protected from this guy's destructive approach. Wridgways were dumb for hiring such sloppy, inexperienced people.

I asked one of the men who looked like a foreman not to pack my wheel barrow and hand truck, as I’d be using them to shift the pot plants into our rental truck. And then I saw the wheel barrow and hand truck being packed. “Oh, you want to keep them do you,” the same guy questioned. Thick as a brick.

Then later they made lots of use of our hand truck, as well as their own? Okay, whatever helps. I asked them not to pack the table tennis table. It was going to be used in our rental truck, opened up as a large shelf to store items on top as well as underneath it. And then later I found it missing and already loaded. It was unloaded. I don’t think they were happy, but they didn’t seem to be listening. They had packed a dresser but had left its mirror behind.

I was up and down the driveway checking that they were taking the correct things. Every time I did this I'd see our rental truck parked across the road, doing nothing. And every time I saw it I thought: I'm paying for that and getting no use from it. That's because of Wridgways.

S had organised some morning tea and beer for men to snack on as they went, but few seem interested. I offered a cuppa to the lolly-pop men. They had a lonely job, afer all. One of them took up my offer, but I was dissappointed at the end of the day to discover that either the mug had been 'pocketed' or thrown away.

At the end of the day, Wridgways wanted to charge $40 for the rent of the witches’ hats that the lolly-pop men had put on the road. I refused to pay it. I don’t think S paid it. What was that about: let’s see if we can fleece these bunnies for more money. Oh, I really hate Wridgways.

As the removalist had finished early, I asked the lolly-pop men if they’d stay while I loaded my truck. No, they couldn’t help; they had been hired by Wridgways, and they all left together, but added that their contract started at 7.00am, and at 3.00pm they’d soon be on overtime. I wheel barrowed the pants across the street on my own.

I should say, in fairness, that I was carrying a particularly heavy pot plant down the drive on the hand truck. Perhaps it looked as though the weight was beyond me, and I got some help from this one guy. It was appreciated. He was a pleasant guy, but by and large the rest didn’t give a damn, and departed as soon as they could. Anyway, while both of us were pushing the hand truck across the street, I asked this guy what it was like working for Wridgways. “I don’t work for Wridgways. I’m a contractor,” he replied.

We finished packing our own truck just as nightfall hit. After a day like that, the last thing you want to do is a couple of hours of loading heavy pot plants. It was a great saving to have shifted the pots part way down the block on the day before.

So, with S in the MR2 and packed to the brim, and me in the truck we set off for Canberra. We were both tired and despite wanting to rest up we had to hit the road.

Wridgways - a stuff up

It was a late night yesterday. With the removalists due we didn’t get to bed until about 2.00am, but the garage was almost finished. And so, after a lousy sleep, worrying about everything we had an early rise, and up at 6.00am. The removalists were scheduled to arrive at 8.00am, so we had to make an early start.

Eventually the removalists came and they started to mark off various boxes and items in the garage. Then not so far into the morning there came a time when there was a lot of standing around happening by the workers. For some reason the activity of everyone had ground to a very slow pace. I asked one of the men, “How’s it going?” It was just a causal question with no particular deep and meaningful intent behind it. Though I guess I was surprised to see the guy leaning against the wall and not really doing anything. But the guy’s response caught me off guard, “I don’t know. It’s not up to me.”

Wow. Something was up. How come I didn’t know?

Then along came Mark De Lacy from Wridgways and made himself known to us. He said the uplift had been called off until some traffic control people could be organised, that is, called off until the next day. He spent a long time talking with us. He apologised, and explained the dangers and difficulties of this particular job.

The issue of concern was access to the block. Because the removalist truck couldn’t be driven into our driveway (we had a steep block) or parked at the side of the road next to the drive (there is no footpath, just an earthen gutter), and because the block was situated on a main road (which was almost true) that a different approach to the upload would have to be adopted.

Mark then went on to explain how our furniture would be transported. Perhaps he was trying to deflect our thoughts from a lost day. He said our container load of furniture would be shipped by train, and he could guarantee a freight booking and said our stuff would probably be in Canberra next week. He couldn’t say exactly when it would arrive, but definitely this month.

Emily rang. She was the grumpy Wridgways person who, the other day, said I shouldn’t call into the office without telephoning first. She said the local Council would provide a service that included some lolly-pop men for a fee of $900, which she wanted us to pay for. These would be the traffic control people.

I dug my heels in. We had a quote. I told Emily that the person who had provided the quote had seen the property. He had walked up the driveway and knew how steep it was, and had driven on our street to get to the property and knew how much traffic it carried. Surely if something was difficult it would have been included in the quotation. Emily said she would check the quotation, and rang off. I was annoyed the uplift had been cancelled. I was doubly annoyed that Emily was asking for more money, out of the blue. I hope my anger showed on that phone call. I was seeing red. I’d had enough of Wridgways.

I rang my workplace who had forced me to use Wridgways. Apparently, at least one other person was having trouble with Wridgways, and I was asked to provide a report of my experience with them when I got back. Apart from that request, I didn’t get much help other than sympathy from this person, as pleasant and understanding as she was. I asked if I could dump Wridgways right there and then and go with another company. We had had a quote from Dawkins Removals, but that was before I knew we had to go with my company’s preferred removalist. She said I could change removalists if I wished given the circumstances.

I rang Scott at Dawkins Removals to see if he could do the shift, but in the mean time Emily rang back and offered to split the cost. She said the Council would put on three men at $47.90 per hour, and half works out to be $453.70. That amount needed to be paid in cash on the day of uplift. If we didn’t pay the amount immediately the uplift wouldn’t take place. Does this sound like blackmail? Dawkins was willing to do the shift. They were more expensive, but had built in the various hazards they had recognised on our block, and would shift our pot plants too, but unfortunately could not come as soon as we needed them. Wridgways had us over a barrel. I told Emily that I’d pay the fee.

I also said to Emily that we would be leaving the house early on the next day to pick up a rental truck, and to pass on this information to the men doing the uplift. I emphasized the fact that the house would be empty but unlocked tomorrow and that the men should start work in our absence. We didn’t want further delays.

Our original plan, had things gone to plan, was to have the removalists to do the uplift today. We had banked on that, because we had booked a rental truck for the next day, and would be loading our rental truck throughout the next day, and had planned to drive off to Canberra when loaded, hopefully sometime in the afternoon. This was going to be a nuisance with the Wridgways people and us trying to load both trucks at the same time.

The removalist people departed.

S and I spent the rest of the day lunching at a restaurant in Eltham, trying to take our minds of this shemozzle. A little bit of pleasantness amongst the chaos. On the way back I called into a steel merchant and bought some steel bar to help in fixing some anchor points to the ute so that the camper van could be secured. I’m not looking forward to this job.

We also spent the afternoon shifting some plant pots in readiness for loading into our truck on the next day. Some of those pots felt like they were glued to the ground. I could barley budge some of them. To say nothing of trying to get them down the steps through the garage and down the driveway. The hand truck was invaluable. I'm glad I bought a heavy duty unit.

Wridgways - an unexpected experience

I took a drive to the Melbourne office of Wridgways to pick up some removalist boxes. I’d been building up a few boxes from people who had finished using them and had given them to me. I also had a lot stored in the attic from when we moved into the house about 15 or so years ago. Those old boxes were still good, but the tape had perished. I guess that’s not surprising after all that time. Anyway, although I had a lot I needed some more.

Ted, one of the Wridgways reps had told S that the cost of removalist boxes would be included in the quote. And so there I was at Wridgways office looking to pick up a few boxes. I was asked to pay for them. I’m not particularly impressed with that.

Emily came out to the front desk to speak to me. She was visibly annoyed with me, saying I shouldn’t have just fronted at the office without having telephoned first. What the hell?

This is a business, surely. A shop front. When has anyone telephoned before calling at a shop front for anything? When was the last time you wanted something from a business; a chemist or shoe shop perhaps, and have had to make an appointment first? With a doctor or dentist you need to make an appointment, but if you walk in from the street they are not going to refuse to sell you a toothbrush or something, and say to you in an annoyed manner that you should have rung first. What a load of rubbish. What sort of company is Wridgways?

Anyway, Emily, this overly aggressive office tyke said the cost of removalist boxes was only covered if the company did the packing for us, and as we were doing our own packing we’d have to pay for them. This must have been in the small print somewhere. I don’t recall anything like that, and I thought I was quite good at reading the documentation. I couldn’t help wondering if she made it up on the fly. I paid for my boxes.

Tiffany rang while I was at Wridgways. She’s the person I was in the process of buying the ute from. She said the cheque had been cleared and she’d be bringing the key around. She congratulated me on the purchase. After Emily’s little tantrum I didn’t feel in a particularly congratulatory mood, being more in an it’s-about-bloody-time mood. Emily had definitely soured my frame of mind. Which was a pitty because unfortunatley Tiffany copped some coldness from me.

The 'to do' list grows

I had a very large ‘to do’ list, and only got through part of it with the most important being that the home loan forms got signed, witnessed, and sent off to Virgin Home Loan’s solicitors.

A day of packing and even more packing. The garage is a mess. I hope it comes together in time for the removalists. Emptied a sideboard that was in the garage. That was where the old stereo and my old uni notes were stored, but rats had taken up residence. I wrapped the stereo in plastic and old sheets to keep the dust out, but all it was doing was keeping the piss in close contact with everything.

I had to throw out a lot of urine soaked photocopies. But then, if I haven’t used then in all this time, I’d be unlikely to use them at all.

I've just noticed the tags I've selected: I seem to have inadvertently placed rodents and solicitor in the one posting. I wonder if there is a message there. Freud might have been proud.

Packing is so boring

The packing is taking much longer to do than expected. I found I get one of the removalist boxes almost full, only to see that there remains a little gap that’s too small for the next item. The gaps were too big to leave empty, but too small for much else. I didn’t want to leave any boxes only partially filled, yet I could not find a thing to put into the box to fill it completely. Bugger it. It’s so frustrating that in the end I just stuffed the gaps with cushions.

My eventual solution: pack two or three boxes simultaneously. Any items that don’t fit into one box often tend to more easily fit into one of the other boxes. Packing is so tedious; I wish I had started a lot earlier, and then the job could have been spread over a longer period and would have been less of a strain.

I didn’t get much done to the ute. The weather has been drizzly. Perhaps the weather is just an excuse. I have to fit anchor points to secure my campervan. I can’t seem to find the appropriate pieces of steel to do the job. I have lots of steel in the shed, but couldn’t find anything suitable. Perhaps this is avoidance behaviour. You see, I don’t quite know how to tackle the job. I have a general idea of how things should be, but can’t seem to make a start. I don’t want to make a hash of it. It’ll all come together when I get the correct steel for the job. Surely it will. It has to come together as there’s not much time to get things done.

And the clock ticks on. The removalists will be here soon. Got to go faster.

Getting the ute ready

I began to figure out how to attach the campervan to the ute. Well, should I say how to secure the four anchor points which will locate and secure the campervan when I put it on. I had to remove the plastic liner that’s used for a tray in modern utilities. Tiffany might be surprised to see her car (my car) in pieces if she calls by. The plastic liner was difficult to get out – it had been glued in place (probably to stop it vibrating during travel) as well as being bolted in position.

Manufacturers have gone a bit cheap with this plastic liner thing. Not long after I bought this house I built a few stone walls around the place; retaining walls and steps. I’d go to the local quarry and bring back about half or three-quarters of a ton of rocks in the back of my old ute. But with this new plastic ute; I don't know. I wouldn’t be willing to load rock in this ute; the rocks might fall through the bottom. Though, it does allow easy access to the innards of the vehicle when removed.

With my first ute I bolted the anchor points, as specially made steel u-bolts, part way down the sides of the ute. That worked very well, but looked atrocious. Kind of industrial looking. With my next ute I fitted rope rails, which would double as actual rope rails. This was great, but it took ages to put it together in a way that looked good. So, I had something different planned for this new car.

What I was trying for this time was four simple anchor points, but not having them bolted to the outside skin of the ute. I was trying for mounts on the inside. Plastic ute liners are not structural things. So, I had to remove it to find out where the steel in this ute was located. Anyway, it’s a happening thing, thankfully.

The legal stuff arrived

S did a stint of teaching at Monash. I returned a missing printer panel to a chap at East Bentleigh. I had sold an old printer to this guy on ebay, and months afterward realised there was a panel that had been left off, which made me feel bad. This was almost a year ago, and I only made this discovery while I was in Canberra. Anyway, this guy lived near to where I’d dropped S off. So, I paid him a visit while she was teaching. This chap was an enthusiast and bought the printer pretty much because it was a museum piece. He had collected a multitude of old computers some of which were quite impressive looking items.

We also spoke of the Monash University computer museum. He hadn’t seen it. It’s really a must see if you like that sort of thing. The museum has displays of calculating devices through the ages. Of all the items on display the one that got my attention and drew me up with a start was a terminal-come-printer of a type I had occasionally used when I was studying at uni. Things change quickly. Another interesting thing in one of their displays was an example of computer memory, which was essentially a wire spiral. I don’t really understand the principle involved in this, but presumably, by the time it took a charge to accumulate in the wire and dissipate, it stored the value for a short time. I wonder why a capacitor wouldn’t have done. An excellent display.

Melody called today. S made herself scarce, and I showed her around the garden and house, pointing out the various things, and gave her $350 for rent with our extended overstay. I said we’d leave the keys and garage door clickers on the bench.

A package of home loan documents (from Virgin Money’s solicitors) was sitting on top of the letterbox when we got back from Monash. Balanced precariously – thanks Australia Post. This was not a one or two page form to sign, but a massive bag of stuff to wade through. The swanky bag had “your home loan is in the bag” written on the side. Don’t you love it? I think it would have been fitting if instead the bag had the words, ‘we’ve put more hoops in the bag for you to jump through.’

A reading of the documents was more confusing than informative, but because it arrived late on Friday there was no time to contact anyone to clear up the issues. The document referred to monthly repayments – I wanted fortnightly repayments. They want insurance documentation for $210k, but I’ve already got insurance for $183k. And they want a rates notice! How could I possibly have a rates notice? I don’t live there yet. And they want an ID form sent via the Post Office. Most of the material they are asking for is in Canberra. I wish they’d said something to me before I drove down to Melbourne.

Tiffany dropped off the ute in the drive, but kept the ignition key. I gave her the cheque from the leasing company, and she completed the transfer of registration form, and passed that across with the RWC and car handbooks. This is step closer to actually having a car, but frustrating not to be given the ignition key. At least I can work on the ute and make a start to fitting the four anchor points that will secure the campervan that needs to go onto the ute. Everything is happening much slower than I’d like.

A leased vehicle

Wridgways, our removalists, got back to me with a quotation for undertkaing the job without doing the packing: $5592. They think that only one day will be required for pickup.

I drove into Melbourne to take some documents into Lou at DSP, and while there picked up a cheque for Tiffany to help pay for the car. DSP had already sent a cheque to Tiffany's car finance company the day before. So, that will pay out the balance, and that’s it. The car has been paid for. But Tiffany is still suspicious.

I suppose it’s only fair. Cheques do bounce. Although, its unlikely that a cheque from an organisation that’s owned by the RACV will have any trouble being cleared. Still, she doesn’t want to hand over the car until the money is in her account. I'll just have to wait.

Novated lease

I seemed to have spent most of the day driving back and forward between Eltham and Warrandyte faxing stuff to the leasing company and to my workplace in Canberra to get the ute purchase organised. Lou at Direct Salary Packaging was good to deal with, but things are still moving at a slower pace than I’d have liked. With a house to pack the last thing I want to be bothered with is sending faxes to all and sundry. I was curious to discover that DSP is owned by RACV, and of course, I get RACV roadside coverage under the package. Not the top offering of full service that regular members get with all the bells and whistles. I just get the emergency call service, but I’m not complaining. That’s great.

I called into the DSP office to finalise the arrangement. I think it’s good to meet people face to face. It gives you a chance to see who you are dealing with and gives them a change to size you up. The leasing arrangement covers vehicle insurance, registration, vehicle servicing, maintenance, and fuel costs. I just drive it and they pay for everything, which will be nice with increasing petrol costs. And somewhere along the line there is a tax break. The arrangement insists that you cover a certain minimum number of kilometres to be driven each year. I’ll just have to go for a few weekend drives if I'm not covering the distance, and not worry about petrol costs while I'm doing it. Oh, that’ll be so tough.

Wridgways rang: Following up on an earlier enquiry, if they don’t take our boxes it’ll save us $2134. There was no mention of the estimated cost reduction of doing our own packing, as they said the calculate that.

More logistics

Fay, our Warrandyte conveyancer, rang to say everything was going fine. Hey. That’s a surprise.

She said settlement will take place at 11.30am on the 13th, that a cheque will be made out and sent to the Canberra solicitor to cover Stamp Duty, with the remainder left over for the purchase of the Flynn property. She also said that a section 27 form has been faxed to our real estate agent in Warrandyte to release the deposit to us.

I called by and picked up the cheque from the real estate agent. The deposit had been eaten into by the agent’s commission: $9230, advertising: $4115.74, GST: $1339.07, other expenses: $45 (I wonder what that was). The timing for this cheque was good, as I’d just stretched my credit union cheque account to the limit.

There was no sign of the Virgin Home Loan documents as yet, so I rang them. Apparently, they were very busy, but I was on the list of things to do their end. Well, at least the wheels were turning.

The lease for the car seemed to be a more difficult process than I’d expected, and not real cheap either. Though the exact costs will have to be worked out later, when I get some time.

A few things were selling on ebay: my old motor cycle, mulching machine, and of course the trailer were the biggest items.

A break from packing

Packing is such a tedious process. We needed a break and went off to the movies. Had a nice lunch at La Luna while our clothes were at the Laundromat. They do a great vegetation big breakfast.

Since our washing machine blew up S had being taking her clothes for a drive on a weekly basis. At Carlton there are some nice cafés and the Nova cinema is not too far way, and the laudromat of course. So, getting the clothes done became an outing.

Did a bit more packing when we got back. It’s a slow process, but I’m being careful.

We bought a utility

I’d spotted a ute a few days ago that might be a worthwhile buy. My impression then was that it seemed in excellent condition and somewhat reminded me of a new car. The price they were asking was also in the range of the Red Book for this model, albeit at the higher end.

The owner had a couple of horses and she and her mother were tending them at her agistment property that fortunately was not too far away. The arrangement was to meet them there and check out the car at the agistment property. It’s strange how you can feel like you are in the rural backblocks when only a few miles from the suburbs. Her directions were good and we found them and the car at the side of a dirt track next to two beautiful horses. Does this seem suspicious? They seemed honest though.

We took Tiffany’s car for a test drive. S loved it. It was certainly very nice vehicle. My only reservation was that I couldn’t get a good wheel measurement. This has been one of my checks I like to carry out when buying used cars. I measure the distance between the front and back wheels, and if the measurement is not identical on both sides I pass the car up.

It seems to me that you don’t really know the history of a car when buying a second hand vehicle. I used to take a few tools, and a comprehensive check list. I would go through the interiors checking that all the instruments worked, taking notes on the condition of the upholstery and whether the seat mechanisms worked, windows and doors opened and closed and locked. I would methodically go though everything looking in the boot and under the body, as far as possible looking for damage. At one point I even removed spark plugs and tested the engine compressions. This all takes time, and sometimes a lot of time, but it can be worthwhile. If any of the doors don’t open or close well; like the one I’d seen a few days ago in a town just north of Melbourne it could be an indication the car has had crash damage and not repaired particularly well. A good check for crash damage is to bring along a good quality steel tape measure. Let me explain.

As you can imagine, when vehicles are manufactured reasonable care is put into ensuring the wheels are parallel to each other and, generally, sit on the ground on the corner of an imaginary rectangle. Now consider if a vehicle gets hit badly on one of the corners. It is very possible that the structure which supports the wheels will get twisted or bent with the result that one of the wheels will no longer rest in its proper position in that imaginary rectangle. It’s possible for a car to be repaired and effectively made to look good, but with the underlying vehicle structure (chassis) remaining out of alignment. To all intents and purposes the vehicle looks good, may drive okay, but may suffer poor road handling and be a danger to yourself and others. Reputable repairers will not allow this to occur, but not every repair will have been done well. A quick and easy method to give some indication as to whether this situation has occurred to a vehicle is to carefully measure the distance between the front wheel and rear wheels.

Here’s what to do: Park the car on solid, flat ground, with the wheels pointing straight when you are out on the road test. Get a friend to hold the end of the tape in the centre of the rear wheel (best if the hub caps have been removed) and extend the tape to the front wheel and note the distance to the millimetre to the centre of the front wheel. Do the same on the other side. The measurements should be identical. Be careful not to scratch the paintwork. If the measurements are different, skip this car.

Anyway, I couldn’t find a nice flat spot, which may have caused the suspension to affect the measurement. I also couldn’t get the hub caps off and had to measure from wheel rim to wheel rim, which may have been a little out because wheel rims sometimes get dented. My measurements were reasonably close, rather than perfect. We bought the car. I explained to Tiffany that I wanted to lease the car, and that a leasing company would purchase the vehicle. Tiffany seemed a little suspicious. All I need to do was get it organised. That'll be an interesting experience.

We were also in the middle of buying and selling a house, needing to get stuff shifted to Canberra, and needing to get our new car ready to carry our camper van, all of which takes time, and time was something we didn’t have much of. The car was so close to perfect that I didn’t mind too much in paying top dollar.

Car hunting continues

The used car section of the newspaper had a few utes advertised, but nothing seemed particularly inspiring. The carsales web site seemed to be a better resource. I just have to promote this site.

In a city the size of Melbourne you could be driving for miles on the off chance of seeing a good car, whereas the web site can sort by location which is a very useful feature, to say nothing of checking out a few pictures of the car too. I wonder if the days of classified ads in newspapers are numbered.

Packing gets serious

Finished packing a stack of books into boxes. Books are very heavy, so I only packed them half way and filled the remainder of the box with linen. They were still heavy, but manageable.

I had listed some items on ebay, and amongst all the bits and pieces I had up for sale was an old trailer. Despite the trailer’s decrepit condition I felt sad in offering it for sale as I had built it as a young man, and it was my first major welding project. It was really very badly rusted, and the photographs I posted clearly showed holes in the metal. It sold, the guy who got it seemed happy, and once more ebay amazes me.

I got only one box filled with crockery. It’s slow going.

So far, I hadn’t heard anything as to our idea of dumping the solicitor in favour of dealing directly with Melody in the rental of our property. We have to stay in the house past settlement date and the legal fees for setting up such an arrangement is to cost $300. S was wondering if we should get the solicitor’s phone number. I had a better idea. I rang Melody and put the idea to her directly. Without hesitation she said, “paying the solicitor set up fees was stupid,” and was happy to have an informal arrangement. We’ll put $350 in her hand when she visits some time next week. So that’s organised.

Later in the day Fay, our conveyancer, rang in response to a message I had left, regarding the same issue. She said that she had contacted Melody’s solicitor, and as Melody was on a rostered day off today was not contactable. She said I would have to wait until next week for an answer. I was just off the phone to Melody and got it sorted. The reason I was able to speak her was because she was at home. They’re all next to useless.

Checking out used cars

I wasn’t able to locate a suitable used ute in Canberra, but I had spotted a few on the carsales web site over the last few weeks. I had been making enquiries about it by email, and arranged to see it when I got to Melbourne. So, we took a drive to a little town a few kms north of Craigieburn to see it.

The owner wasn’t present, but her mother was there. And so we had to put up with Carmel, an Irish woman who could talk you to distraction, but couldn’t say a thing about the car. It was an average vehicle, without a spare wheel, toolkit, roadworthy certificate, and had a driver’s door that wouldn’t close properly. I had to pull the door very hard to close it. And having to deal with Pat, the owner’s father, who would hardly budge on price. We eventually agreed on a price but I had to organise the RWC myself. Normally, that’s something the seller does. I couldn’t get the car booked into the local repair shop, which was another little town, even further north of Melbourne.

No, this was just too much trouble for a car that I wasn’t 100% happy with.

I had a look at another ute, late in the evening. It was difficult to see much at night, but this ute was certainly a fine car. I had rang the owner in the afternoon after spotting it on the carsales website. She seemed a pleasant sounding young woman. We made arrangements to meet at a service station midway between my place and her home. The test drive went well. Without driving the car very far indeed, I immediately fell into the its-like-driving-a-new-car experience. Of course, this was at night, and that has disadvantages. Although the bodywork seemed fine, I might be missing a lot of flaws. But I was keen enough on it to want a second look in daylight. The car we saw in the morning wasn’t a patch on this one. We made arrangements to see it in daylight, but Sunday was the earliest opportunity I could arrange with the owner as she used the car for work and did a lot of country driving. This car was a definitely a possibility.

Melbourne bound

I need to go home. I’m feeling anxious over everything that needs to be done, and S’s left in Melbourne by herself. Fortunately, there was no resistance from the boss, and I hit the Hume Highway for Melbourne once again. How many trips will this be?

Don't trust the removalist

I rang to check how things were going with the removalist companies. I wasn’t aware of it when I started this, but it turned out that there was a contract between the company I worked and a particular removalist firm. I had no choice but to use them. I needn’t have got quotes from other companies. Wridgways was the preferred company.

I rang the Wridgways Canberra office to check on the quotation. They said they were busy “crunching the numbers.” That could mean they are working on a price, or it could have meant something along the lines of oops we’d better get on with that job.

An important point for me to check with the removalists was when they might want to be paid. This was an issue that was dear to my heart. I had a nasty experience when I was moving from Tasmania to Victoria a few years ago. Something I didn’t want to repeat. We had used Watkins Removals in that shift. I was at work in my new job on the day our furniture arrived, and S rang to say the removalist truck had arrived at our new place. She said the men were refusing to unload our furniture until they were paid. I found this an unexpected event, particularly as it hadn’t been raised with us beforehand. It was a tricky situation, made worse by the fact that there wasn’t much in the way of cash in my bank account at that time. I got out of it by sweet talking my boss, who faxed a note to the company indicating they would be assisting with expenses, and to bill them. I didn’t want to be in that situation again, and put it to Wridgways. They assured me that this situation would not occur, and they said they would probably bill the company. Anyway, it’s as well to commit people to arrangements, and then you can argue with them later from solid ground.

I noticed on the documentation I’d received from my solicitor there was reference to something about Perpetual Limited. It sounded like the name of an insurance company. Apparently it is the organisation that will be funding my home loan, along with a little note I almost missed which said that if this name did not appear on my insurance policy, settlement may be delayed. I’m glad I spotted it. I would have thought such an important issue would have been emphasized by all concerned.

I spoke with David at Virgin Home Loans, and he explained something of the background, much of which I didn’t understand. So, if I get this wrong, I’m sorry. However, it would seem that Virgin Money operates under something called a ‘scrutinized program’. An organisation called Perpetual Limited, which is affiliated with Reserve Bank managed investment bonds of the Macquarie Bank. The consequence of this is that Perpetual Limited is an interested party in our home loan. If the house burns down they want their cut. Hell, I thought I was borrowing Virgin Money funds.

I had promised Fay, our Warrandyte conveyancer, some information regarding the trouble we had been put to in getting the deposit, and emailed this along with a proposal for her to put to Melody, through her solicitor, that we deal directly with Melody, rather than giving her solicitor a $300 set up fee to rent the Warrandyte house. I’m annoyed at the whole thing. I’m not feeling too kindly to paying $650 for about a week’s stay.

Pat the Warrandyte neighbour has been coming down making a nuisance of herself. It’s not our fault that her cat would rather sleep in our place than live in a cage at Pat’s house. No wonder it escapes and seeks out a snugly warm place.

Greedy lawyer, bungling conveyancer

The nicest thing that happened today was that David from Virgin Home Loans rang to say that our home loan had been approved. The valuation had been sent in on the Saturday (now there’s an odd day of the week for someone to be working), and with that being the last step the funds for the loan were approved. He said he would contact Vickie, the Canberra conveyancer, and Virgin’s solicitors would send the relevant documentation regarding the home loan to Warrandyte.

Fay, our Warrandyte conveyancer, had got word from Melody’s solicitor about the change in settlement date. I was wondering if that was in response to me emailing our real estate agent, who made contact with them to arrange it, or was it just coincidence? Who knows, and who cares? The settlement date has been changed, and that was excellent news. However the bad news was that her solicitor will charge $300 to set up the documentation whereby we rent our property for $350 pw for the few days we have to stay past the settlement date. Fay said her solicitor is one of the most expensive in Melbourne. S was enraged at this fee. I expected a nominal fee, but not the $300. What sort of crap is this? Greedy lawyer.

I was pleased it was the last legal problem. Though, the idea of paying a fee on top of rent to rent my own house was burning at me throughout the day. Perhaps we should charge a $300 fee for a final inspection. We didn’t get our deposit from this buyer for so darn long, and I didn’t charge a fee. And now this. To point out that this is unfair is an understatement.

Two letters arrived. One from Fay – Transfer of Land, and a Goods Statement. Another letter arrived from Vickie confirming that contracts had been exchanged. The letter went on to say that “settlement will be on or before 19th May, next.” Hang on. Wasn’t May last month? It must be a typo. I liked the reference to when stamp duty had to be paid: “By this date, from sale proceeds in Victoria.” Which date was that? Oh, yes: “this date.” How more vague can you be? It was also interesting to see under the Insurance heading: “Lender’s name: Perpetual Limited.” I wonder where that came from as I had just insured the property with GIO. I’m not sure if there is any point in trying to work this out? It’s confusing. Though, mistakes such as the typo don’t extend your faith in the people managing your affairs.

More car hunting

I spent the day looking at more utes. Why do people over-price the stuff they want to sell? Do they really think their well cared for factory made second hand car is any better than the next person’s well cared for used car? Some difference above the norm is tolerable, but sellers shouldn’t put outlandish price tags on their things.

There was a Holden I saw at one of the car markets. It was a really nice relatively late model, but why were they asking over $19k when they should know the going rate. Everyone buying or selling a used car should consult the Red Book for a vehicle’s worth. I made reference to the Red Book, but the reaction was simply that they won't budge on the price. Okay, fine. I'll shop elsewhere.

There was also a Falcon in Craigieburn being advertised for $17,000 that seemed interesting. I spotted it on the carsales web site a few days ago. The Red Book listed the model between $15500 and $18400. So, depending upon its condition it could be worth considering. So long as it’s still available when I get to Melbourne.

There was a car market at Woden. There was nothing there for me at that market, but I spotted a campervan. I was curious about it, having one of my own. Though this one was a combi. As I approached, I saw someone inside. It turned out that it was the owners who were inside; sitting in it. They were a very young couple. Both of them were well wrapped up against the cold, and both of them had red noses and had the snuffles. I wonder if this campervan was their home. They were a cheerful pair, despite both having a cold. Youth is so optimistic. I noticed little columns of 5c and 10c coins on the table. They were checking their resources, I guess. When they sell their camper van, they’ll have some money, but perhaps nowhere to live. Poor souls. I felt for them.