Have you got the time?

I know its been two weeks since my last blog, but I have been very industrious in my enforced absence.  

A few years ago we decided to invest in residential property.  Over a period of two years we brought and completely renovated seven houses in the thriving metropolis of Dannevirke.  It was one of those "seemed like a good idea at the time" kind of ideas.  Not only did we manage to renovate them but we also thought we were so shit hot that we could manage them all ourselves as well.  What fools we were.  We have since sold two of them and all but one are managed by a property manager which has cut down the workload considerably.  However, there is always something that needs doing or a problem that needs remedying, which is the reason for the lack of action in the blog.

Our property manager had said that one of the houses was vacant and she thought it could do with a repaint and a tidy up.  Of course we could have got a handyman/painter/DIY guru in to do the work, but rather than pay someone, we decided to do it ourselves, or at least Scott decided that rather than have a holiday in April, we would go away now and do some DIY instead.  This of course meant I had to get the kids' schoolwork up to date before we left, house organised, gear packed, schoolwork for the week or so we were away organised and packed, and so on and so forth, I am sure you get the drift.  Scott had to attempt to organise the members of MENSA (staff) with their tasks for the week and of course pack the wagon with all the DIY kit we would need for our journey south.  We do own a trailer, but Scott decided in his wisdom that given the price of fuel at present ($2.30 a litre in Ruatoria) he would strap a large black box to the roof of the wagon with all the paint and painting equipment in it, rather than waste fuel towing a trailer.  Unfortunately the box bears more than a passing resemblance to a coffin and we received plenty of odd looks and finger pointing on our journey south.  From behind it looked like someone was trying to escape from the Coffin and Scott had suggested that perhaps a couple of rubber fists (think "Borat") sticking out the back would have enhanced the experience for those looking on.  Unfortunately, rubber fists are not something routinely kept around the house so that genius idea had to be put on the back burner.  Plenty of people already refer to us as "The Clampetts" so our mode of transportation will come as no surprise to many.

The Coffin, side view

The coffin, from behind where the addition of rubber fists would have made the difference.

Many wives will of course go on holidays to Tropical Islands in the South Pacific or shopping meccas in main cities.  I, however, had the distinct pleasure of a painting and decorating sojurn in the environs of New Zealand's Scandinavian capital, Dannevirke.  I know how jealous many of you will be starting to feel right now.

We really had no idea what to expect at the rental property and were fearing the worst.  It is always good to prepare for the worst case scenario and then reality always seems a pleasant surprise.  We arrived to find the place more than a little filthy....there was a small amount of human excrement on the walls in one room with the apt description "shithead" written in black vivid on one of the other walls.  One of the other bedrooms had been painted a god awful shade of purple that the tenant had managed to get all over the skirting boards and scocias.  Lovely.  We proceeded to paint aforementioned bedrooms in a calming shade of cream, the entire kitchen received the same treatment.  I will however give you a small piece of advice, never ever scratch your mouth and nose when painting with enamel paint.  It took me three days to remove my cream hitler-esque moustache.  The house is clad in stucco, so we gave the outside a good wash and we are getting a new shed built as well.  The entire task took us five days to complete and the house now looks much more presentable.

There were some real positives to our trip southward, the first being that we got a break from the four holy terrors.  Scott's parents looked after them for us so we did get some adult time, albeit on the end of a paint brush.  We did manage to have a romantic lunch on the front doorstep purchased from the local chinese takeaway.  Scott really pushed the boat out on that one, he even brought me an ice cream one day on the way home.  The kids spent a lovely day wandering around Dannevirke with my parents and going to the pools.  They pushed Grandad Stache all round the streets in his wheelchair and didn't tip him out once, which is always a bonus.  We also managed to catch up with several sets of friends, which was long overdue.  I will of course have to wait for my "holiday" a little longer.

Of course, all good things must come to an end and so we arrived back on the Coast yesterday.   Ruatoria didn't take long before it showed its unique character and what makes it such a funny little place to live.  I called in at the shop to pick up some milk and ran into an old geezer in there who has a speech impediment...his impediment being that he has far too much to say for himself!!  He greeted me by name and unfortunately I was unable to do the same as I have no idea who he is, but he always chats to me like we are soul mates.  He followed me around the store putting things into my basket and giving me a dietary lesson on the benefits of Vogel bread vs "that other shit" (his words).  His advice, for all of you out there choosing bread products, is that you should buy Vogels and "feed it to your kids aye, because then they'll live long enough to support you and give you money".  He updated me on all the local happenings and his philosophy on the evils of money.  He also advised he had been to visit another local who had been unwell recently.  I asked him how the chap was now and whether he was keeping in good health.  My friend replied "oh, he's got himself measured up for a coffin but he's too bloody mean to die".  I left the shop feeling glad to be back and highly amused by my little tete a tete with him. 

Scott experienced a Coastie-ism this morning.  It was about 7.15 am and the phone rang.  Scott answered "Scott speaking" as usual.  The local on the other end said "Is that you Dan?".  Scott replied "No, its Scott Somerville.  Who are you after".  "I'm after Dan" said the guy "You got his number Kill?".  Scott assumed which Dan it was, and said "Yep, I've got his number, hang on a tick".  The PHd holder on the end of the phone says "Yeah bro, I need to phone Dan to see what the time is".  "Right" said Scott.  "You got the time Bro" says our friend.  Scott gave the guy the time of day, as you do, and the guy said "Cheers" and hung up.   Now I am quite sure that conversation would not have taken place had we lived in another location than the Coast.  I only hope that our man finds Dan's number and rings him tomorrow and not us again.  Watch this space!!