Some of you may remember my anguish many months ago (way back in June), when the evil Mrs Kierney decided that she wasn’t going to sell her house to me after all. At that time I vowed to find something better so that I might exact my best revenge by living my life well.
Well that time is upon me.
I have just found out that I have successfully exchanged contracts on the purchase of a new house. Completion is on 19 October. The only way the vendor can pull out now is by paying me something like 10% of the house value as compensation. Frankly I’m not even sure if that would be a bad thing
This house is a 19th century country cottage with spectacular views across the Surrey downs. It has a fireplace in every room and more character than you can shake a stick at. And a bowls green at the bottom of the garden, so that we might amuse ourselves by watching old people in the summer.
No swimming pool in this one (sorry Coldie!) but ready access to some of the nicest countryside you could hope for.
Truly, this is a great day in the kabbes annals.
I hope that those of you who live near enough (yes I’m thinking of you, Fran) will be available to warm the house at some point in the cold winter months. Bring some coal.
Bowling green? I recommend this be turned into a radio controlled car racetrack at the nearest convenience. You’ll thank me for the suggestion, even if you do end up with Jarvis Cocker picketting your driveway.
Character eh? Would it be suitable for a “Raffles” type character to be seen swirling a fine cognac and smoking while chatting up an unsuspecting young lady by the fireplace?
Am I the only one imagining Kabbes driving a Jaguar up the driveway while Ms. Kabbes waits at the door with the sunday papers?
Your beard would fit in a treat, Twisty. Especially if you were to wear a smoking jacket at the same time.
I feel that I should explain that the bowling green is on the other side of the fence at the bottom of the garden. For your plan to be put into effect, we’d need to do one of the following:
Subtly move the fence in the night to enclose the whole bowls club. Deny access to anyone over the age of 70.
Simply use the green as a race car track anyway. Laugh in the face of those who call us “young vandals”.
Either will do.
And you can leave my annals out of this. They recently have lapsed.
Marvellous! I shall bring coal for the characterful fireplaces. It sounds gorgeous (read: I’m insanely jealous). You’re a proper grown-up now! I’m imagining you attending the local neighbourhood watch meetings and drinking with the locals in the cosy pub on the corner, discussing the terrible rise in the price of sheep dip and those dreadful out-of-towners who clog up the villages every weekend.
Cosy pub opposite you mean. The current occupiers of the house (not really owners any more… hee hee) are apparently good mates with the landlord. Any bets about how long before he knows to pull me my favorite beer at 18:12 precisely, 30 seconds before I enter the pub?
Don’t worry Steve - the house is too old to have a garage, or even a drive. It’s on protected land, so we can’t build one either (even though it fronts on to a not-so-minor road, the one point that counts against it).
The current owners park in the pub car park opposite. Hopefully we can come to the same arrangement. I’m sure a lilac camper van will only serve to brighten up the place!
That’s eerie. I work in Epsom and the house is in a little village that borders on Dorking. Name of Westcott.
Either you cheated or you know the south-east FAR too well.
As for the ticking and tocking kabbess - something tells me that working closer to home than I do, she might already be in that pub by the time I get there. We shall see.
