Money, Money, Money.

I am new to this blogging lark and still learning. I remember reading that one of the blogging crimes is committing 'cyber pollution' I think it was called; blogging for blogging's sake. The suggestion being, only blog when you have something to say. Daily newspapers blog ad nauseum, the result often self indulgent, banal and boring. Perhaps it is inevitable when you blog for money and have to do so to a daily deadline; I have no such pressure. Yet I fret if I cannot regularly blog, it has become part of my life at least for the time being and I reckon twice a week 'suits you, sir' as the gentleman in the advert implies.

I am not even sure why I blog. Nice thought if someone were to read my work when I am long since gone. Nice also to leave something in perpetuity, so to speak. Plus my children and my children's children might read my limited efforts and learn something of my life, though not wishing to sound self importance or arrogant. Each and every point relevant in a small way.

All week I've wondered what to write. The weathers been mixed, life acceptable if somewhat mundane. A week like a thousand others except that Monday October 13th was like no other; yesterday our world stood still, the day my wife and I became virtually insolvent.

We are in the middle of buying our present, much cherished, hopefully last residence. (The next move will be a pine box job, feet first.) Because of complications too boring and complex to think about, virtually every penny we have has been converted to a cheque to be exchanged on Thursday for one 'des res'. The premium bonds, the Isas, the shares, all gone. Yesterday the turn of the bank accounts which is why we stood in the queue at a branch of the Nat West.

We were well prepared, courtesy of my wife who is sole banker and main spender in our household. Our turn came, 'Window number two' and the next thirty minutes were entertaining and fairly pain free. My wife transferred virtually our entire savings; the inheritances, the redundancies, pensions, all now gone; every account now empty. Paulette did all the transfers with the aid of prepared scribbled notes passed furtively under the glass partition. Paulette did not wish all around us to know the details of our financial situation, hence the written communications. (It did occur to me to take it home in cash ready for Thursday. Imagine the stress involved!) No thanks, keep hold of it, Nat West. I'll trust you a day or two longer in spite of the world's financial meltdown this week. The young lady behind the counter was pleasant and efficient, even though she vanished at intervals. (I wouldn't have blamed her if she had gone for a lie down.)

To be truthful my wife is glad the money had gone. we both have had visions of being financially wiped out prior to the sale. Yesterday Britain subsidised our banks to the tune of thirty seven billion pounds. The FT index went up by over eight hundred points. Roll on Thursday!

We come into the world with nothing and if our previous house doesn't sell we may leave with nothing. I'm just going through my pockets for any small change. If I find enough I'm going for a pint and a plate of chips later today. By the way, all donations gratefully received!