Some curious tenant behaviour

I have to admit being surprised to see the change that had taken place to one of the windows in the unit the tenant was renting. Doing some maintenance around the house I spotted one of the window fly screens had had a piece of screen cut out of it. A neat square had been opened in a lower corner. I didn’t remember seeing such a large hole before when I was checking out the property. Then I realised, with the sliding window opened slightly the cut out would be a spot for the tenant’s cats to walk in and out. It was a cat door.

I wouldn’t have dared doing anything like this to someone else’s property. I couldn’t believe someone would do it to mine. Presumably it would be repaired at the end of the lease. It was a disrespectful thing to do which annoyed me. I might have agreed to it, but I wasn’t asked. That was annoying.

I was surprised a few weeks later when I noticed the same fly screen lying against an outside wall. Why was the tenant removing the flyscreen? Possibly the hole wasn’t as large as it needed to be for the cats to get in and out. Possibly one of the cats had pushed through and dislodged the screen. I don’t know. The screen seemed precarious where it was resting, so I shifted it. While moving it I saw that it was damaged.

It is an aluminium screen, and one of the corners of the frame was bent. It was the sort of damage that might occur had the screen been caught by a wind, flown through the air, and hitting something hard. I felt irritated when I saw the damage. I have to say I don’t exactly recall seeing the condition of the screen when I bought the property, but I have no reason to believe it was anything other than perfect; well to be fair: serviceable. Now it was well on its way to being stuffed.

Should you bother with what the tenant says?

Well, of course you should. But you shouldn't let their requests get in the way of your own priorities in life.

The last thing anyone needs immediately after settlement is bills. Some effort and money was invested in cleaning the place. We repaired a few things around the house that needed doing, and replaced the existing lampshades in the unit. To improve presentation prior to renting. There had never been a need for a letterbox by the previous owners, but one was required now before we could rent. Things were generally done economically. We were looking forward to getting a tenant into the place.

The property was advertised and a tenant was found remarkable quickly. I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly it was taken. The agent was considering several applicants and gave it to a young woman who had a few pet cats.

Very soon after our new tenant took up residence she came to us with a request. She was concerned the unit would get hot and uncomfortable for her cats if they were locked up all day with the doors shut. The house had two sliding glass doors along with two sliding aluminium screen doors. They were security doors but not as tough as some products on the market, and of course the fly screen was nylon. Not the most durable thing when cats start scraping at the door. She was concerned the screen doors would not offer sufficient security if the main doors were left open. Could she please have security screen doors fitted?

As it happened she knew someone, a friend, or a friend of a friend, who was in the business of making and fitting security screen doors. He could do a deal because of her relationship with him and the price would be good. And he would fit a new screen door to our downstairs unit at the same discounted price.

We briefly explained our financial situation, which I doubt interested her. Basically, we were saying we couldn’t afford this. Stainless steel mesh insect screen doors are relatively expensive. She volunteered to pay for the doors herself. She must have said that without thinking, and possibly bit her tongue afterward. At least it indicated the strength of her bank account. We agreed to have the doors fitted, but only if she purchased them and we undertook to make regular repayments to her each fortnight. I find that arrangement so bizarre: she was to pay us rent for living in the property, we were to pay her for screen doors.

Anyway, we had three aluminium and stainless steel screen doors fitted to the house. I had seen these things advertised for some time. They have an aluminium frame with stainless steel mesh. The screens give the impression of having the door open which of course allows more of the view to be seen. In hindsight we should have said something along the lines: no, put up with things as they are or move out.

Experiences like these make you hard. Particularly when unexpected car repair bills hit. There were a few other expenses too. Clearing the debt was tougher than expected.

Looking for a tenant

The real estate agent was surprised when we said pets were okay. Most rental properties don’t allow tenants to have pets. The agent said allowing pets would open up the market for us.

The property has polished floor boards. So there are no problems if are any little ‘accidents’ occur. No carpets to worry about. Anyway, the floor lost its highly polished surface many years ago and is looking a bit scuffed. So, the odd scratch that appears on the floor will blend with the existing marks.

Within a very short time someone was interested in renting. Actually, a few people were interested. We left the decision to the agent. A young woman took the place. She had a few pet cats for company, and seemed happy in her new home.

Canberra to Melbourne

It was time for another trip to Melbourne. We picked up a truck from Sargent Rentals at Fyshwick this time. This truck was manual rather than automatic as was the previous one. It took quite a bit of getting used to. I didn’t get off to a great start, as I was selecting the wrong gears and was a bit unsteady on the road because of my fumbling with the gear shift. It’s not that I don’t know how to drive a manual. It was just a matter of getting used to the truck and I didn’t realize first gear would be so low. At least I’d gained some experience in driving a vehicle this size a few days ago.

We loaded the truck with our empty cartons, a change of clothing, and some tools ready for the trip, and of course, the repaired campervan jacks.

The campervan jacks had become seized preventing me from bringing the campervan back to Canberra, and was presently stuck in Melbourne on our old property. This was a setback that had hopefully now been resolved. I took the two jacks to my trusty Belconnen mechanic a few days earlier to see if he could repair them. I guess I could have bought new jacks, but in the vicinity of $1800 I’ll try the repair first. And it worked. When I picked them up from the garage I was more than a little curious to find out how they were un-seized. Apparently, the mechanic had difficulty with them.

The solution ended up along the lines of securing one end of the jack to the hydraulic hoist of the type used raise cars into the air for service, and then securing the other end to the floor. The jacks were heated with an oxy acetylene flame, and pressure applied to the mechanism by turning the jack handle, while at the same time applying pressure by raising the hoist. I squirmed a bit when being told, but hey, if it works. Innovative!

I was so pleased they had been repaired. It wasn’t just the cost of the replacement jacks that concerned me. According to the web site I found, and thankfully they are still available, I may have had issues if I bought new ones. My campervan must be more than 30 years old. I bought it second hand and in one of the drawers was an old book of matches. The photograph on the book of matches was that of Prince Charles and Diana at their wedding. That’s getting back a few years. Anyway, according to the web site, you buy four camper legs, as they call them, in a set (I only need two), and you buy them with accompanying brackets. The brackets are fitted to the campervan, and the legs hook into the brackets when in use. Well, my campervan already has brackets fitted, neatly tailored into the aluminium sheeting and the structure of the unit. What’s the bet the new legs wouldn’t fit the existing brackets, and replacing the brackets would be a major ordeal. Not the sort of work you’d want to attempt interstate.

Anyway, our two cats will have a huge helping of food to tide them over for the weekend, and here goes another trip down the Hume Highway.

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?

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.

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.

Some logistics planning

I spent the day looking at a few more utes, private sales this time. Canberra used car buyers have the benefit of a great operation here. Around town on the weekend, various car parks in popular locations are set aside for the presentation of cars for sale. Anyone who has a car for sale may pay a fee, and would-be buyers are free to browse. It’s a very nice idea indeed. I spotted a couple of utes at a couple of these used car markets that took my interest and subsequently contacted the owners to arrange a test drive.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this close to newer utilities. Most of the newer utes I’ve looked at seem to be built with a lot more plastic that I’d like to have see on them. Constructing a commercial vehicle with a plastic tray seems darn silly to me. Sure it won’t rust, but will it be able to hold a load. Will you feel confident in throwing rocks and boulders into a plastic tray, as opposed to a steel tray? There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of choice whether you buy a Holden or Falcon.

I need the ute to transport a camper van that’s parked on the block at Warrandyte. This is the type of van that fits into the back of the ute – if you think of a caravan with no wheels, your half way to thinking of what it looks like.

Actually, there is a lot of transportation to be done in getting our stuff from Melbourne to Canberra, and not just our furniture and personal items. I got out a pencil and paper and began to go through the logistics. It may be difficult but not impossible. Here is one scenario. We’ll see what actually takes place when the time comes. Stuff has gone wrong all over the place so far. Anyway, the aim is to get our things to Canberra, and includes our:

• Stuff from Melbourne


• Ute from Melbourne


• EXA (which is in Canberra, with me)


• MR2 from Melbourne


• Camper from Melbourne


• Elsa and Squeak from Melbourne

So, here's my plan:

1. Assuming I buy a ute in Melbourne, I’ll drive the EXA to Melbourne on one of my trips from Canberra


2. Buy the ute, load the caravan on top of it, and drop it off in Canberra, and then drive back to Melbourne with the empty ute


3. Pack up the MR2 with as much stuff as it can carry, rent a truck and pack that up too, and both S and me will set off for Canberra together in separate vehicles


4. The MR2 gets left in Canberra, we unload the truck, and we both drive back to Melbourne in the empty truck, return the truck to the rental company, and drive back to Canberra with me in the EXA and S in the new ute with more stuff and our two pussy cats.

The problems will come with timing, bad timing, that is. If the lease of the ute can be worked out quickly and I get the caravan shifted early, that would help markedly. But if it takes ages, clashing with when we should be in the truck, then we will need to rethink everything. Or if I have difficulty getting the caravan on the ute that could be a problem too. If there are any problems such as this we may have to shift our stuff to one of the neighbours places for a few weeks. We don’t want to be renting this truck and getting in the way of the removalists.

I don’t have a photo of my own van, but here’s one I spotted on the web that gives an idea of what I have. These units are fabulous things. There’s no trouble carrying them really, except that they weight the vehicle down a bit. The only real hassle is getting them on and off the ute. They come with four heavy duty jacks that raise them to a suitable height to allow the ute to slip underneath. You then lower the jacks and the van sits flat on the floor of the ute, and you secure the van to anchor points that you have previously placed in suitable positions on the vehicle. And this is one of my problems in buying a ute. I will have to spend time fitting the anchors to the ute before I can attempt to move it.

I’ve done this work before on two other utes I’ve had, but manufacturers keep changing things. Each one has been a whole new experience each time, and it’s a very fiddly task. The last thing I want is to have hassles at the end.

A fuzzy deal

Something always happens. Just about every day in this epic some new issue crops up, and here was another event filled day. You could say it makes the day interesting. On the other hand it’s stress I would rather do without.

First up, B rang to see if I could push ahead with the contract exchange. Not that such things are up to me, but it seemed a reasonable request. It would be a gesture of good will. After all, our vendors had exchanged on their new house, and they may be feeling vulnerable living in limbo. I gather they bought their new property at auction, and of course there’s no backing away from an auction sale.

So, I rang Vickie, my Canberra conveyancer, to ask what the delay was on the exchange. We had a short conversation about the merits of organising this settlement before settlement in Melbourne was locked in and finance confirmed. But it’ll be a sure thing. Surely it will? She promised to do the exchange today.

I rang David, my contact at Virgin Home Loans. Actually, I’d been phoning him every hour and hanging up when the answering machine clicked in; I wanted to speak to him, not a machine. Anyway, I got him eventually, and passed on the concerns of B. He said all the valuer really focuses on with private houses is to see if the building seems structurally sound and they look for evidence of pest damage, but they don’t crawl around under the floor or in the attic. He will phone me and a letter will go out, possibly tomorrow or Monday, when the loan application has been approved. I also mentioned the surprise email I got from Virgin.

An email arrived from Virgin with the following message: “In your hunt for a home loan you stopped by Virgin Money to see what you could borrow, but as yet we haven’t heard back from you…” What? David put that down to administrative error of no consequence. It was a discouraging experience in the procedures used by Virgin.

Apparently all the documents I had faxed to Virgin were okay. David said there had only been one outstanding issue, but it had been resolved. He said they were interested to know whether we actually owned our Melbourne property, and then they came to a determination which resolved the matter. Curiously, they didn’t get in touch with me to provide any evidence of ownership, in their determination. Apart from me telling them, that is. But that’s hardly evidence. They must have their own source of information. Interesting.

I organised insurance cover, protecting the building only, using GIO again. The last thing you’d want to happen would be to buy a property, have it burn down, and not be insured. I’ll insure the contents when we get actual contents into it.

Late in the day Vicki rang saying she was, “… trying to do the exchange.” Now, that was an interesting expression, I thought. Trying. Without appearing to appear rude, I asked, “What does that mean?” The owners of the Flynn house, through their solicitor, a mate of the owner, she added, want to change settlement to the 16th June, rather than the 19th, to match the settlement of their new house. It also transpired that contracts had not yet been exchanged, as B had said. Can you trust real estate agents? I told Vickie we couldn’t do this, as it would leave little time for moving. Besides that, the new settlement date was just about to be set, and we don’t want to change it again. How much of an idiot are we expected to be while pandering to other people’s whims?

This news had put me on edge. It was frustrating. I was wondering how to deal with it, and was on the verge of calling Vickie back, and putting a few ideas to her. I was wondering if a compromise could be made that might benefit me, like having the vendors pick up the bill for having our removalist pack our things, or have them pay for our truck rental, but she got to the phone first with a solution.

She will write our settlement as the 16th as requested, but do nothing until the 19th. I don’t understand that. That arrangement sounded somewhat illegal, and I said as much to her. No, it’s fine, apparently. She went on to explain that there is a 7-day lapse period that banks allow, to cover situations where funds or cheques are sent to the wrong place. (What? That sounded strangely familiar!) She also said there isn’t a penalty clause in the contract, saying this as though it were a significant point. I was missing something in the conversation. I wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or a bad thing, but in this particular circumstance it seemed to please her. Because of the 7-day fuzzy period, no one will be confronted for funds that are not forthcoming. We won’t be asked to get a bridging loan. No one will. So I asked, “Why don’t you write 16-19th in the contract?” No, apparently you can’t do that; it has to be a specific date.

So, to confirm this conversation, I repeated: you write the 16th which means nothing, and we sit on our hands until the 19th when the money comes through, and then we do the deal. “That’s right,” she replied. I was surprised and perplexed.

It was all happening a bit faster than I could cope, but it was kind of exciting too. I asked about the 3-day delay in funds transfer we were being forced to go through and whether the 7-day fuzziness could have taken care of it. I asked her if we should have just not troubled ourselves, just adopting a casual attitude. “Perhaps,” she replied.

On a more mundane note, it seems as though Abo, the cat, is giving us some trouble. Abo is a lovely Abyssinian, and from time to time comes wandering over to our property in Warrandyte, in much the way cats do. Our block is a block or two distant from Pat’s place. Abo belongs to Pat, one of our neighbours. The cat normally lives in a cage in Pat’s house. No wonder it keeps escaping and visiting us. Why would a cat want to live in a cage when it can saunter over to our place, steal some of our cats’ food, and have a nap on our bed? Pat was gruff, rude, and off-hand when she approached S about the cat’s whereabouts. I think she thought S was attempting to steal her cat. And this is another good reason to be shot of Melbourne, with such horrible neighbours.

S was to do a stint of teaching on the next day. Class was scheduled to start at 8.00am which means a 5.30am rise if she is to get there on time. It’s the traffic chaos in Melbourne, you see. I drove her to this place once. That was enough. At one section on the Springvale Road during peak hour, we didn’t get out of first gear for about 20 minutes, and much of that time we were stationary, waiting for the car in front to move. And this too is yet another good reason to leave Melbourne.

Another Melbourne visit

Just back from another Melbourne trip. With daylight saving gone it became a very dreary drive, but the audio books I took were great. I should have been listening to them ages ago. They keep you alert and some of the stories are so entertaining. It seems to shorten the drive.

It was a bad week with so many bills to pay. Some of them were late, some huge. The car insurance had gone up by $100 – great. It has left us short, and the cost of petrol edging up steadily doesn’t help. If for nothing else, my time in Melbourne gave S a rest with my help during my visit with the house tidy up sessions, prior to each open inspection.

The neighbour’s cat, Abo, seemed to have taken up residence in our place. I wonder if that’s because S has been feeding it and its owners hadn’t been.

I got the garage cleaned up and made a bit tidier, and some boxes of stuff were put into our storage space at Eltham. I spent some time rearranging the stuff that’s in storage to allow space for even more things if need be. Our little spot is now one-third empty; it seemed full before the tidy up. It’s amazing how much you can get in there if you pack it correctly. I should have done this much earlier, but there never seemed to be the time with so many other priorities.

Our fish is still dangling on the hook, but with no acceptable offers the property is still on the market.

It was a cold drive back to Canberra. I wasn’t going to turn on that smelly heater unless I had to. Some mice or rats had taken up residence in the car heater some months ago, and to say it smelled a bit was an understatement. The extra clothes alternative worked fine: two long sleeved skivvies under a hooded pullover, and a blanket over my knees. I must have looked a sight. It was pathetic, really.

Preparation gets serious

I didn’t manage to get all the painting completed in the main bedroom on this trip to Melbourne. It’s so tricky and time consuming painting cornices, when they are a different colour from the ceiling and walls. I threw in the towel at 2.00am. There was no way I could possibly finish the job at the rate I was going before it was time to leave. Anyway, I was beginning to feel wobbly on the ladders, and there’s no point risking an injury over a coat of paint.

With two and a half hours sleep under my belt I was whisked off to the airport. For the first time ever and despite my child like fascination of the view from aeroplane windows, I dozed during the bulk of the flight back to Canberra. I felt dead all day at work. I hope no one noticed. I couldn’t concentrate on work, and left for the day earlier than usual. I caught the bus home, but unfortunately got on board the wrong bus and had to walk miles in the hot afternoon sun.

Less than 12 hours earlier I was cleaning paint brushes in another state, and here I was trudging along a street swishing flies away on a hot afternoon. What a day!

Not sure why my back was aching: because of the strange angles I was standing while hanging onto the ladders, or because we slept on the lounge room floor on the last night trying to avoid the paint smell that was in the bedroom.

So many things didn’t get done on this trip, but a lot did get done. The house is taking shape ready for sale, but oh, it’s a slow, painstaking, painful, tedious, boring job. I'll say more shortly.

I phoned home in the evening. S said that Elsa (our cat) was pining for me. She had been wandering around the house looking for me. Poor thing. I played a trick on her when I got home. When I arrived, I crept quietly into the house by the back door, and tiptoed into the bedroom, hid behind the bed, and called her name when she walked past. She took a double-take when she saw me. Okay, I’m a softy for our cat. Her nineteenth birthday has just gone.