And It's Sod's Law Again

One very overwrought week. My daughter and son in law have spent the week frantically packing and driving vans up the M6 prior to a final move today. In between Jeff giving high powered seminars (so he tells me) to photographic students and keeping Helena aged nine happy in her last few days at her present school. Everyone is very stressed and it shows.

At this end we also pack frantically, boxes are everywhere. The mere thought of the move is frightening. I arrange for a gardener to tidy up the garden prior to selling. (It is so bad at least one fox has taken up residence at the bottom of the garden, I see him or them everyday.) I search for garden shears to trim a little, hoping to give the idea that it is not completely abandoned before the gardener's appointment. Sod's Law, I cannot find shears, not over surprising in the jungle that used to be called garden. Neither has two friends got so simple a tool, two others can't be found in my hour of need.

Virgin have been issued with details last week with details of the imminent move and reconnection at the other end. They confirm dates for reconnection, getting the details completely wrong. (They also got my daughters details wrong, how do they manage it. A rhetorical question, no answer necessary, Mr Branson.) They are informed by telephone of their mistake. They write again concerning the move, promptly getting it wrong again.

I sleep badly so arise early. I go to the computer for solace. Horror of horrors, Broadband is not working. My wife eventually arises from her slumbers ( she is normally first up) and deals with the problem via the telephone. ( She is better than me concerning computers. Also my blood pressure is already too high for comfort.) A lady in India is eventually contacted and assures us there is no problem in our area. (How far is India from Great Britain?) She presses a button and lo and behold broadband is retrieved. Oh that it were that simple. Unfortunately not true, the television now also becomes defunct. My wife perseveres, at least four or five are now 'on the job' so to speak. Our phones now join in the excitement and switch off mid call. (So much for buying cheap phones on Sunday markets.)We are now informed that we were cut off yesterday as per our instructions. No such instruction was given and we couldn't be cut off otherwise the phone wouldn't have worked until now. Reconnected twice more, Virgin admit defeat and arrange for a technician to visit tomorrow morning. Which couldn't be more inconvenient if it tried. Tomorrow I have arranged for three men and a van to move the heaviest of our possessions. What's the chance of them turning up, I wonder.

And it's still only half past ten. The phone rings, this time someone with a strong Birmingham accent. There is trouble in your area, he announces, contrary to earlier information. Broadband is now restored. (He doesn't say for how long.) Already a strange day what next I wonder. As Captain Oates would say, "I am just going outside and may be some time."