My pen was poised one centimetre above the page to sign when my conveyancer said, 'Are you quite sure?'. What do you mean am I sure, I screamed inside, how can you say that to me now??!!? Outwardly I turned towards her and smiled the smile of the condemned woman, a kind of inscrutable Mona Lisa smile, and said quite calmly, 'Yes of course I'm sure', and signed the paper. Yes so blithely I signed that paper as if it were nothing, nyet, niente. Foolish woman!
And yes my friends that is how I came to be the owner of my very own pile of rubble in the Blue Mountains in Australia and how I also came to be in total sympathy with the Spanish people. Why the Spanish people I hear you ask?? It has nothing to do with my Spanish heritage, great grand daddy Santos, oh no no no, it's due to having to convert a pile of rubble into something I can actually live in. I was most upset when the building inspector, having completed his inspection, reported that my home, my gorgeous 1920's house in the mountains was barely liveable! Barely liveable!?#* Is the man blind? Can he not see what I see? Obviously not. Barely liveable. It has heating, it has hot water, there is a bath and a kitchen sink and a stove, what more does one need?? Barely liveable. Didn't he see the original leadlight windows and front door? Didn't he see the original fireplace or the dresser in the kitchen? The old girl has good bones. I can see what it will look like when I've finished and she will look amazing. She just needs some love, don't we all?
So anyway once I started to tote up all the things I needed to do to the old girl and I realised some pretty frugal times were ahead and I started to love the Spanish people enduring as they are, their own austerity measures. So when I wear my tights with the holes in the feet and when I make my coffee using coffee bags rather than my usual daily cappuccino, my heart goes out to the Spanish people. They are my peeps, my bros and my sistas, yo or si senor, they're wearing stockings with holes too and having to reduce their serving of paella and cut down on the flamenco classes. Challenging times. So I am totally into the whole austerity thing you know. I'm taking my lunch to work each day and lentils and baked beans are now my friends. I stock up on the specials at the supermarket. I've cancelled my gym membership. Ouch!
So follow me as I negotiate the world of renovation, my own and the house! It's going to be a wild ride!
Settlement is early August and before I actually move in I'm going to get some walls removed and the floorboards polished and then start painting. I'll be dealing with the whole change of lifestyle from cityslicker urbanite to mountains momma - for those not in the know the Blue Mountains are to the west of Sydney and about and hour and half to two hour drive from the CBD - so it should be interesting. One friend who lives up there already said yes, great I'll introduce you to some people so you can meet all the freaks in the mountains! oh yay.......fantastic.......I love meeting freaks......too late to back out now....
So when my conveyancer asked me if I was sure, I wonder what she knew that I didn't know?? I think I may be about to find out.....
this is the mountains senorita Katerina di Austerita signing off in holey stockings while eating lentil burgers and knitting her own socks
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