K: I thought it was about time we sent out a small update about our progress.
We’ve had a busy time since out last post. Towards the end of our week securing the garden, we discovered that in the fosse septique (septic tank) battle, with our Agent “Oh, there’s bound to be a fosse there somewhere” Laurette in one corner, and our neighbour Mayor “Oh, I don’t think there is a fosse on the property” Claude in the other, Claude has unfortunately won. One evening, to our utter horror, we heard “water” pouring out a pipe on one of the steep banks in our garden, immediately after Phill had flushed the toilet. That discovery really changes the way you view the toilet pan each time you enter the bathroom!
Back home in the UK, I managed to secure an early appointment with the government agency which deals with these matters. Humorously called SPANC. I’ve also managed to contact 2 fosse installers who will be on site the same day to terrify me with a quote. I have to fly out for the day for all this on the 16th Sept. Apparently, we’ve had a delivery of the internet equipment, so I’ll use the same time to connect us up to the web.
When we returned home, we dealt with the very moving occasion of Phill’s dad’s funeral. Horace had died, aged 81, after a short battle with pneumonia, two weeks earlier. Phill’s mum had insisted that we still go France to put up the fence. The day itself was actually perfect, and one of which I am sure Horace would have greatly approved. Far from being sad (albeit of course with many wet eyes), it was a beautiful celebration of his life.
I found out this week that my application to have the whole of October off has been granted, so once my possible rostered duties have been completed at the end of September I will have 4 lovely weeks to settle us into our new home. Because of this, we sat down this afternoon and looked at possible moving dates. I know that, to many people (including myself), this whole process has been dragged out beyond belief! ANOTHER moving date! But this is the big one. This is the emigration date. The date we will no longer be UK residents. And it represents the final plunge – a plunge that I have been putting off and putting off. This is the final paragraph in a chapter which began with bobbing in the Med and deciding our 2 year moving plan, to my mini depression in winter 2011/12 which made me realise we could (and probably should) leave London after all, to endless internet house searches which lead to the perfect find.
So, Monday 23rd September it is. Then the hard work really begins. I’m sure we’ll look back on the fencing project and laugh about how easy it was in comparison!