Wednesday, 8 November 2017

I was wondering why

I was wondering why my All Saints Day piece was so popular then I googled this

https://www.inyourpocket.com/krakow/All-Saints-Day-in-Krakow_73974f

SO I learnt something.

I've had a few pain free days then tonight the Iron Curtain of Pain descends

I know I bore you all with this talk of  pain, but sadly its part of my life.

That's a dream, if only you'd start buying my books, sadly I'll have to accept reality,  but it's always good to dream

House Hunting for Dreams ©
By Michael Casey

Looking for a house is like waking up and trying to remember a dream you have just had. You may have a warm feeling and want to go back to sleep and re-enter that dream, or it could have been a nightmare and you struggle to wake up to escape the horrible situation. You will just have to remember the good and the try and forget the bad.
So it is with house hunting, we thought we had struck gold with the very first house we went to look at, only the walls wobbled and the space for the slot in washing machine was too small. It was way overpriced too and finally the price dropped 25% before it was sold. I would not buy it at any price, once viewed it was a nightmare, like the crooked house at a fair.     And no I’m not exaggerating at all, one day if we ever meet in the bar of the Trader in Old Forge and Singing Anvil I’ll spill the beans and not my beer.
So you are very upset when your dreams are shattered by such a shoddy piece of building. So you lick you wounds and go back to www.rightmove.co.uk in search of your ideal property. We did find another one quiet soon and we had got the girls to do a test walk to see how far away it was from their school, and we all seemed to like the house, the size and the layout. Only the owners did not like the size and the layout of our offer.
Then there are nice houses but when you use Google Earth to walk around them you discover that they are really horrible, because a garage or lots of garages are just behind the back of them, or an all-night disco, or the church of the really obnoxious is at the bottom of your garden, or a bingo hall. Or worst of all you discover that your neighbour is Michael Casey.
Some houses are 100K overvalued, you know it, the estate agent knows it, buy the seller is determined to get that 100k because he boasted to his brother that his house was worth it, so he cannot lose face, he hangs out for 100k overvalued, and after 6 months he sells it for its real value. Houses are not antiques that forever go up in value, they have a street value literally. A house will not sell for more than the certain street allows. You can add all manner of ensuites and kitchens you like but in the end the street price rules.
Gardens are important too, you need a space to hang out your knickers after all, and your shirts and towels. If you have a pet, other than goldfish, then you need a bit of space for the dog to run about and a fence for the cat to jump over and pooh in your next-door neighbour’s garden.
Shops are good too, a house needs a good corner shop, I’m lucky I have the Polish shop and Neil and his shop too, but I won’t mention Neil again as all the free publicity might go to his head. When you find your perfect house you have to remember that you will need a pint of milk and a loaf of bread, and if there is no corner shop then you are knackered. So when you look at that dream house remember to walk the area, don’t just drive there and buy it without walking around the place.
Walking around an area gives you a flavour of an area, is it in a high crime area, do prostitutes come up to you, or are you offered blow in the streets, or is there the constant sound of burglar alarms going off. Or are there people with clip boards forever stopping you in then street. You might also get an avalanche of junk mail through the letter box.
In a way the right house is the one you can afford, that isn’t next to nosy neighbours who’ll pop around for tea all the time, and only stop when you throw a bucket of water over them from an upstairs window. It’s like the feeling you get when you’ve had a good pray, or 17 pints of Stella Artois and a packet of cheese and onion crisps if the bar is your church. So all I’ll say is keep on praying, hic.

If I win the lottery I'd buy

Russian hat

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