managed to get loads of stuff sorted out over the past two weeks ... sold a car, a superbike, as well as tons of crap at a jumble sale last week down at the Irish Club in Randburg - going back there on Sunday to sell more stuff.
Had my mother's ring altered to fit me - it's worth R22K, so thought that was a good idea. Got valuations on other jewellery that i may (or may not) sell - some of it is worth quite a lot.
Have to go to an antique dealer in Parkhurst on Saturday to sell another antique table of my mothers' that I can't take with.
Got quotes for cratage fees to send 6M crate over to the UK. Got quotes on sending cats - not going to do that - fuck R17K and upwards for two cats to the UK - bloody madness.
Will be applying for daughter and son-in-law (plus kiddies) UK Ancestry visa in the next week or two.
House is basically sold - the fickle fucking woman managed to get approved by all banks they applied to, so that is on the way now.
had to get some work done to the electrics to get our house electrical compliance certificate and instead of having to fork out R56K and upwards for that (no fucking kidding), we ended up paying Godfrey (bless his soul) only R1700.
got repair work done by a local plasterer on some dodgy bits of wall that weren't quite right in the house - also only cost R600, as opposed to in the region of R5K.
Man of the house sold his Blackbird (Honda CBR1100XX) today, the dude is actually here tonight revving it up in the garage and will be taking it away later on. Shame, it's a beautiful bike.
Daughter no. 2 sold her VW Chiccol Golf today, she's depressed as all hell
Lots of ambient noise whilst i'm typing this, keeping looking round to see that nobody is standing over my shoulders reading what i'm writing.
I seriously hope that a certain person i have knowledge of occasionally wasn't injured in that Colorado shooting, it freaked me out.
I am basically writing it in my head at the moment, not talking it out or actually typing. I think the issue is that there is just too much noise in my life right now - good noise, not complaining :) - so i know it will get done - probably finish it in blightey, or on the plane whilst we are flying over there (need something constructive to do -besides drinking - on the plane, hey?)
It's coming closer. It might actually happen. I don't want to think about it. Yes, I do.
It's all I think about.
I am LIVING for the moment we board that plane. I know I will cry, I know it will be fucking hellish emotional having to say cheers to Andrew and Dave ... hopefully not for long. But it's now or never, can't let that thought drag me down. Can't let any negativity creep in here.
The time is now. I can feel it, see it. And I am psychic, remember. My forward consciousness is feeding back to me - i'm getting all those celebratory emotions.
Only ever felt this positive about the future once before in my life.
I remember sitting in the back of the Mercedes Station Wagon, driving back through the frozen snowscapes to Heathrow three Christmases ago, crying to myself, trying not to think about leaving the UK and what it meant ... I promised myself I would come back, no matter what ... the below was playing on the radio.
This has been a long time coming.
I'm going home.