As the otherwise largely obscure (now) French poet, Paul Claudel, said, “Gentlemen, in the little moment that remains to us between the crisis and the catastrophe, we may as well drink a glass of champagne”.

Yes, it has been that sort of week (and forgive me but there have been a few spoilers already on the forum).

What a nightmare few days. Edging closer to settling a new house, but it still seems as though it is a million miles away and with a vendor keen to crash the contract and a bank trying not to keep stumbling over its own twisted incompetency, there is still every chance I’ll be on a park bench.

Over a year ago, with the burglary and the old place crumbling, I knew I needed to sell and move. Loved that old place, but it needed way too much work and I had neither the ability nor the dosh. The sale took months before and after the contract. Including 8 extensions – not all of them caused by my Bank, or their bank, but my bank lost the docs twice, theirs lost theirs once; mine sent the docs to the wrong branch on…