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Walking towards oblivion

August 7, 2012

More on the Holiday Rentals scam, according to Wayne Brown form FR2Day and Tony “I invented the internet” Coombs the fraudsters may have intercepted the owners email account by the owner clicking on a fraudulent link, but that is something I studiously avoid. They both suggest looking at deleted emails on your email system, to see if there any there that you did not delete. I did that and found nothing.  He was very keen to say that he did not believe Holiday Rentals were to blame, but their withdrawing their phone number from their website, refusing to take calls and failing to respond to my urgent email on Saturday leaves me with considerable doubt.

According to a report I saw recently, the cost of raising a medium-sized dog to the age of 11 is just over £10,000 (12700 euros at todays Currencies Direct exchange rate). Banjo, the horrid hound who lives in my household under the protection of that nice lady decorator is a big dog, so I would guess he may well cost £15,000 at least to raise to the same age. I think you can see where I am going with this. For that amount of money instead I could have bought a round the world ticket, stayed in some of the best hotels, eaten top quality food and had several cases of Chateau Petrus in my cellar. Now, I ask you, which would you prefer, the latter?, or do have a dribbly smelly dog lurking in your household for 11 years? Perhaps I should conduct an on-line poll, as the result might be close.

Not yet, surely?

Yesterday we took a stroll around the village of Arundel, my home for the rest of this year at least. It is very charming and almost all the pubs are good and restaurants abound. There are also some quirky and interesting shops, of which one I show a photograph today. The Walking Stick Shop. I would like you to consider what that says about the average age of the inhabitants. What worries me most was that I was drawn into the establishment and tried out several different models. I think the silver topped cane would have been my choice and I was reaching for my wallet before reason returned at the last moment. Obviously, I was told, I was far too young to be thinking about such a fashion statement. You see the problem when one does not have the baleful influence of one’s style guru to hand? Mr Humphreys (if was free) would have had something to say had I gone through with the purchase.

Today I am sinking into work top heaven. We need new kitchen work tops and a new sink. The existing ones work fine but it seems they must be replaced, and soon. I am told today would be good. I am also told it will rain today and tomorrow, but I would have been no better off in Valbonne as seemingly it rained there yesterday as well, for at least 5 minutes.

Last evening then, that nice lady decorator, who loves a bargain, decided we should attend a local auction held in a pub next door to a junk shop in Barnham. It seems that they had collected together the worst of their stock in an attempt to generate some business, but even she decided that lots such as 6 pairs of Polly Peck tights, some Peters and Lee vinyl albums and collection of stained and cracked crockery was not sufficiently interesting to stay and make a bid, so with silent thanks to the gods of shopping, we returned home, and, to ease her distress, we went next door tothe White Hart for a pint of Harveys.

Chris France

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