And so we say
goodbye to Lissa. Her leaving do last night marked the end of her time with us. She worked on PM during the day, especially on the opening headline sequence (fretting that her Jowell was too long) and then we retired to a place not far from work. I did take two photos of her on my phone. One is of her grinning like a maniac, and the other she's threatening to sue over. I wasn't there long - and she promised not to be on account of the removal men coming at 0800 this morning.
She feels a bit cut off as her broadband was removed a week ago, but I think we can safely say she will be around once she's reconnected. She left a special place in her leaving speech for the froggers.
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I imagine this thread will be long lost when she resumes her connectivity but what the heck. Farewell, Lissa and family. And welcome to the High Peak. A lovely, tranquil place where nothing really happens (but Manchester and Sheffield are mere train rides away).
Thanks for getting this place underway. And I look forward to all the Big Cat reports in the Buxton Advertiser...
Goodbye, farewell and amen Lissa.
If my experience with BT is anything to go by, then you should be connected by...ooh next Christmas.
Of course, we may see Lissa back at the 大象传媒 if the threatened move to Salford takes place.
Dear Lissa,
T T F N
Ruf.
Bye bye Lissa - for now. And I hope you weren't upset by your leaving card from me. I thought it would bring a chuckle to your lips on what must have been a very emotional day.
Good luck today (I know, I know, you won't be reading this now, but if you look back you'll see we where thinking of you).
Big Sis x
Bye for now Lissa,
It's a heck of a job moving house isn't it?
It is well known that among the top traumas that the flesh is heir to 鈥 divorce, the demise of the family cat 鈥 moving house in high on the list.
That is because it is not an altogether familiar experience. Moving house compulsively, either to climb the social ladder a rung or two or to acquire more living space, is a comparatively recent phenomenon. My grandparents lived in the same cottage for 75 years. And did you know that John Mortimer, in his eighties, lives in the house he was born in.
My own reasons for moving on have always been pragmatic 鈥 a change of job, a change in family fortunes...etc. But there are as many reasons for moving house as there are postal districts.
Some parents up sticks in order for their offspring to qualify for a particular school. I have even known people who have put up with the upheaval of changing residence simply to acquire a parking space.
And there are those, whom I don鈥檛 pretend to understand, who move house on a regular basis because they like it. Anne Robinson and her strongest link, husband-manager John Penrose, have for years made a hobby of buying a house here and a house there, doing it up, then selling at a profit and moving on. They need the dosh you know.
But no matter how wise or unwise the decision to swap one set of keys, for better or for worse, for a different set, however smoothly the sale goes through, however few the obstacles raised by the nitpicking solicitors for either party, the day of reckoning finally arrives. Moving Day.
These days I get in proper professionals to do the work. I recall with some embarrassment the snooty firm which sent over a chap in a green baize apron the day before the move 鈥 鈥渢o pack your china and glass, sir,鈥 The only china and glass I then possessed could have been stored in a shoe box, with room left over for my cocoa mug.
But in less affluent days I used to use amateurs 鈥 odd-job men who had the use of a van. I particularly remember one cowboy outfit carefully wrapping a cheap set of Dickens and stacking it reverentially in a special box, while they unceremoniously flung my precious Arnold Bennett collection and other valued first editions willy-nilly into a tea chest, dislodging some of the spines.
Then there was the part-time removal man who, in the middle of the job, said he would have to knock off as he had a dental appointment, and he was sure I wouldn鈥檛 mind if he borrowed his own van for transport.
Moving Day over, your nightmare has yet to begin I'm afraid. Your new abode is crammed with packing cases to be unpacked. So where is all your cutlery? In the chest labelled 鈥減ots and pans鈥. Where are the pots and pans? Look under 鈥渢able linen鈥. And where are your spare reading glasses? Choose any one of 20 packing cases.
It can take days, weeks, months, before the new house begins to feel like home. And even then, with empty tea chests cluttering the spare room, you begin to reflect wistfully that the old place wasn鈥檛 so bad after all.
It is possible, of course, to grow over-attached to one鈥檚 semi-detached over the years. A bloke I knew sold his old house, bought a new one and on Moving Day, after the manner of his tribe, prudently arranged to be 200 miles away on an out-of-town assignment, far from the madding removal men.
Returning to London, and getting the all-clear from his wife on the telephone, he went straight to the office and put in a day鈥檚 work, with a three-hour interval for lunch. He then went across to the office pub, and in his relief at Operation House Move having gone smoothly, spent the evening in good company before repairing to a friendly nightclub.
Finally he was poured into a cab and staggered up the drive to his home. He noticed vaguely, as he negotiated the stairs, that some of the furnishings looked unfamiliar, but was in no condition to argue with them. He disrobed, threw himself across the bed and was deep in the land of slumber when the light snapped on and the pyjama-clad stranger in the doorway asked: 鈥淲ho the devil are you?鈥
With the instinct of a homing pigeon, our man had returned to his old house. Hope you and your hubby settle in ok Lissa.
Cheers.
Cheerio Lissa,
If you have a large item such as a piece of furniture or a fridge etc that you wish to dispose of, most local councils offer a Bulky Household Refuse Removal Service.
Dear Eddie,
'I wasn't there long'
What a pity! But we hope you enjoyed yourself, anyway.
My husband's grandfather bought a house in 1912. My mother-in-law was born there and lived there all her 90 years. When she died a couple of years ago, sadly not in the house but in hospital, I would have loved to do a piece for the local paper about the changes she had seen. The next door house had also been in the possession of one family since it was built.
The house is an unprepossessing semi in what is now a suburb of Birmingham but once the 'Royal Town' of Sutton Coldfield. We have photos of the road with few houses, many trees and nothing from there to Sutton Park a huge wild area mentioned in Shakespeare, somewhere. Now the road is a race track and perpetual worry to us on behalf of my 99 year-old father-in-law.
And he is the reason I never wrote that piece for the paper, as he still lives there. He was burgled several times until we increased security and I didn't want to put him at further risk.
How sad is that.
To Lissa,
So long, fare thee well
Pip! Pip! Cheerio!
But be back soon
It's sad but true, that parting is such sweet sorrow.
When moving always give the box with tea, kettle, mugs and milk to the removal men. That way at least you have something to drink when you get to the other end. Giving to the removal men in person ensures they get a cup also!! They won't loose the refreshments.
Bye bye Lissa - good luck with the move - hope it's not too traumatic for you. Look forward to seeing you back on the blog. Fiona x
Farewell for now, Lissa. Don't be a stranger here! We'll keep a sunlounger ready for you on the beach :-)
FFred
Dear Lissa,
Thanks for being our blog princess.
It's goodbye from me.
And it's goodbye from me too.
And maybe from him.
Write soon. I guess we'll all still be around.
Hope the move goes well for you, SO and Mr Knibbs.
Sara
Lissa, Lissa,
We'll all miss ya,
Taking Nik
To the High Peak.
Lissa, Lissa,
We could kiss ya.
This ain't fibs,
And love to Knibbs.
Eddie ... if you trust me with either of the photos, I could make them available off-lilypad to froggers on request!
Fifi xx
Bye bye Lissa and good luck with the move - speak to you again when you're all broadbanded up.
LOL,
A, x.
Welcome to Derbyshire, Lissa.
'She left a special place in her leaving speech for the froggers.'
What place was that, Eddie? And what colour was it? And would we have liked it?
From the depths of Speedwell
to the peek of Mam Tor,
Farewell to you Lissa
It's you we adore!
Thanks for not blue pencilling me too many times.
Seeya Lissa :o)
It would be nice to see at least the frogger-related portion of Lissa's leaving speech posted here, wouldn't it?
Assuming she was as nice about us there as she has been to us here, of course!
Fifi
Silver fox (6) - If it's too good for landfill, use Freecycle. Someone might need it.
I've just realised -- someone I don't like very much lives in Derbyshire. Lissa is clearly moving there to restore the 'nice people' balance!
"Newsletter arrives proclaiming arrival of new technology"
We can all travel in hope, I guess.
What's this about Star Wars, Eddie? Are you going to interview Luke Skywalker?
As an ex time commander, perhaps they're lining you up for a role in the next film ......
Thank you lissa for all you have done for us xx
Bye *sob* bye
Mary x
So,
Farewell then, Lissa - Blogmistress Extraordinaire.
Not that there is anything ordinaire about you (excluding the vin, obviously).
"Lissa with an A." That is your catch-phrase.
And of you, E. Mair said:
"Unless my aim improves, she will be missed". I am sure he spoke for everyone.
There was a strong wind yesterday, so your new house may be slightly to the East of where you last saw it but I am pleased to report that the Chapel is still en le Frith.
Welcome to t' North.
E. J. Not - Thribb (age 63)
Hope you have a great time in your new surroundings - and enjoy the fresh air after London.
All the best, Lissa-with-an-A!
Lissa - The extra 's' is for Special.
Lissa, hope your journey was ok and that the last owners left you all the doorknobs, lightbulbs etc that you were expecting in your house. And that it still has a roof, after yesterday!
You were lucky not to be here then - especially central Manchester which was really wild. That horrendous new H*lt*n hotel (big glass slab in the Victorian cityscape) was apparently swaying in the wind. Inside the Bridgewater Hall we could hear the wind howling around the roof when we were rehearsing - I've never heard any weather noise in there before. Lots of streets were cordoned off, the shops were almost deserted, our concert started 10 minutes late - AND it was a live 大象传媒 relay, so I don't know if the presenter had to tell a few jokes or something to fill in. I think a lot of audience couldn't get there as city streets were gridlocked for hours with all the closed roads & motorways.
Altogether, a good day for you to be in London not Manchester!
Hope you manage to get your broadband working, so we'll soon see you back on the blog.
Give Mr Knibbs a cuddle from me - if he's the sort of cat who lets you do that? Hope he likes the new place. Oh, welcome to Nik too. Please don't read anything into the fact that I mentioned the cat first. Apart from the fact he's more important , obviously.
Lissa - I did post a good luck message at 8.30am, but as it's now 11.53pm I don't think it's going to appear!
I hope they gave you a good send-off last night and that the Removal men turned up on time and didn't drop anything vital! With any luck there will even be some power on in Derbyshire....
Hope the new house soons feels like home and Mr Knibbs enjoys his new hunting grounds. We'll look forward to you being back on the beach soon! GMx
Hello from Derbyshire. We're settled in and the snow is settling fast. Southern boy Nik said "It won't settle on wet roads" and now it looks like we're about to be snowed in. The lovely removal man braved the storms on Thursday night so we were unpacked by Friday afternoon. The hangover wasn't too bad. We've been kite flying on Eccles Pike this afternoon. Love to all at WATO & PM and all the froggers.
Goodness me, that sounds like the smoothest relocation ever!
Congratulations on being in, unpacked, broadbanded and relaxed enough to fly kites so quickly. I'm impressed.
If you can't find the kettle, or get snowed in and can't get out for supplies, always remember the Beach and the Furrowed Brow are well stocked.
Fifi xxx (one each)
Wow! Well done Lissa, Nik and Mr Knibbs! Happy new home, xx.