Episode 14: ..........but seriously.........

I've been racking my gin-addled brain trying to think of a suitable topic for the last post of 2011 and I can't actually think of anything, so I'm going to do something else totally different instead. You know when you go to these poncy 'awaydays' or 'training seminars' or whatever your company is labelling the call to arms that says "we are going to listen intently to everything you say today, all the while nodding and appearing interested, but in reality, you will do it the way we have already decreed"?? Well they often do these things called a 'stream of consciousness'. It used to be called brainstorming, but apparently that's politically incorrect and could offend the terminally stupid amongst us, so they changed its name. Personally I've had better ideas when polishing off the last of a bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream, but each to their own. The point to all this nonsensical rambling is that today, I've decided to go on a boat ride down my own consciousness stream. The problem I've got is that the motor on the boat has stopped working and I only have one oar, so I may go round and round in circles, but it will make for an unusual journey if nothing else.

Deirdre!
Still torturing me

A year ago, I was sitting in my little house in St. Leonards, getting it ready to put it on the market in order that I could move out to Spain with the lovely José. Christmas was spent in Lincoln with the family and New Year with a rather dodgy Abba tribute band in St. Leonards and some prawn vol-au-vents that you wouldn't touch with someone else's ten-foot bargepole. Twelve months on and I'm in a flat in a little town a couple of miles outside La Coruña in north-west Spain, sharing with a couple of stubborn octagenarians, surrounded by plastic flowers and Deirdre the squirrel. I have no regular income - in fact I've had no income since we arrived here in July - and I don't speak the language. Such fun!

Once had a threesome with
Jemima and Humpty from
Play School, allegedly

Sitting in my centrally heated house in the UK, the prospect of setting up our own business sounded like the grand adventure I had always dreamed of. Ever since I was last bounced on my grandad's knee, I've known I wanted to work for myself, but then I was 19 and a student nurse at the time. I think it's time to confess here about my nursing 'vocation'. All through my 28 year career in the NHS, I've been told time and time again that I must have been drawn into nursing as a vocation, because of the energy I threw into my work. The truth is considerably less sexy than that. I am the sort of person who gives my all to anything I choose to do, so if I'd gone in a different direction and been the person who was inside the Bungle suit on "Rainbow", I would have given it the same energy, albeit with more fur and sweat.


I was working in a restaurant and training as a chef/restaurant manager, but my old boss preferred posh foreign holidays and beautiful men - as it turned out did her (now) ex-husband. They spent all the profits from the place and when it was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, it was sold for a song to one of the most vile men you could ever wish to meet. I worked for him for a while as I had no choice, but I hated it, so I went to my old Careers Officer and talked to her. I completed what felt like a 68 page form that was then fed through a computer, which in those days was the size of Basildon. A week later - yes young people, it took that long to process - I got a list of the things I was qualified for. Always with my eye on the long game, I was swayed by the superann scheme and the ability to retire at 55, so I opted for Mental Health Nursing. One interview with the sublime Gordon Rutley (Senior Tutor) later and on 25th April 1983 I was on my way. The rest, as they say, is history.

Where it all began back in April 1983, when you learned how to be a nurse and not a number cruncher

At the age of 18, I could have bought that restaurant off my old boss. It was thriving and took in loads of money, but I didn't have the means to do so. Ever since then, I've had the desire to work for myself. Gosh, this is  getting serious..........! So, the lovely José and I decided we would come to Spain. For me, the NHS is going swiftly down the toilet and the way we were meant to work as mental health professionals sucked all the enjoyment out of my work. The only time I enjoyed going to work was when there was a storm. Our office looked over the English Channel and apart from the sea looking spectacular, the place leaked like a sieve, so the fun was laying odds on where the water would come through on that particular day. Then that was taken from me and they moved us to another unit where I had a spectacular view of the car park. Days full of juggling a team with loads of staff sickness and stress, as we were expected to do more and more with less and less, took their toll and the decision was effectively made for me. Three large catering tins of magnolia paint and some crossed fingers later and the house was on the market.

Bad luck!!

Since we sold the house and moved out here, things have gone downhill rapidly and have continued to carry on hurtling in that general direction. I've mentioned most of these before, but there are a couple of new bits to maintain your interest, so I'll précis them for you:
6th July: Moved to Spain. Hoorah! Very excited!
20th July: Informed that my sister was in hospital after a near fatal car accident and could possibly die. Cancelled planned holiday to USA and rushed to the UK where she thankfully survived.
22nd July: Informed by our holiday insurance company that they wouldn't pay out as my cover was for flights from the UK. As we had moved to Spain, our initial flight to the US was from Spain which meant we weren't covered. Who knew?!?! Lost nearly £2.5k on that one, but had other things on my mind; my sister was far more important.
11th August: Came back to Spain and found mobile phone bill for €174 for the two phones, instead of the €58 we'd been expecting. Been arguing about that one ever since.
September: Had kitchen refitted which cost us about €2000 more than we had planned as the way things are done over here is so very different to the UK and we weren't used to that. 
16th October: Had pointless argument with family, who are now no longer talking to me (and no, I'm not going into details on that one, but needless to say, I was right!!!)
November: Parcels that my mother had sent over were lost in the post, including a special Christmas gift for the lovely José that I can't replace.
Mid-November: Dealing with terrible homesickness as well as the fallout from the family argument. 
22nd November: IKEA finally deliver the new stone worktop, but the guy in the store piddled about with the numbers when he got them and it doesn't fit. They offered to let us keep it as compensation!
1st December: We take our mobile phone company to court through the local 'Consumo' organisation - we're still waiting to hear.
9th December Father-in-law goes base over apex and fractures his neck of femur. He ends up in hospital and isn't operated on for 10 long days.
20th December: I come down with a terrible cold and feel rough as a badger's bum for 2 days.
23rd December: The New School of English closes for Christmas with barely enough students in it to pay the rent each month.


Why have I told you all this? Why am I not on the carpet, sobbing uncontrollably at the awfulness of it all? Well, I'm a glass half full kind of guy and right now, my glass is half full of neat gin. Then once breakfast is over, I'm going to take my Prozac and go back to bed!!

Good Luck...........and how!!!

There is light at the end of the tunnel, as there always is. Despite trying my best to be a miserable sod, I always see the positive side of things, which is so bloody annoying at times.

• my sister is out of hospital and making slow, but steady progress at home
• I have started talking tentatively by email to the family again, although some huge bridges will need to be built next year
• my Spanish speaking skills are improving, slowly but surely
• my father-in-law is coming out of hospital in a couple of days and will be home for Christmas 
• the new worktop from IKEA will come eventually, even if they are crap as a store
• the cold is getting better and I feel a little more lively today
• Christmas will be Christmas with or without José's special gift - I've told him so!!
• there's a new series of "Mrs. Brown's Boys" starting on Boxing Day and some new "Ab Fab" episodes to look forward to
• Me and the lovely José are returning to the UK to see our lovely, wonderful, loyal friends on 29th December until 5th January and I personally can't wait. (If I'm not coming to see you then don't take it personally. I have every moment of every day filled until our flight home, so I'll get round to you next time)

As for The New School of English, we are gearing up for a massive January. The recent online promotion we had secured us 51 new students and we have another promotion coming up in a few weeks for holiday English. We are now so busy that it's taken us all by surprise, but our dreams for the business are coming true at last. Not bad after only 2 months trading. Thank goodness I give things my all, as I'm going to need it!

Would I go back? Nope! I miss the UK and I miss the people I left behind, but the opportunities for me and the lovely José are here in Spain. Life throws crap at me, but like one sad little demented old lady I nursed on night duty in 1987, I make little balls out of it and just throw it back!!!

January - the month I always decide to go on a diet
January 6th is my birthday - the day the diet always fails!

Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year to one and all!! Thank you for continuing to read this meandering drivel. I will be back in the middle of January 2012 and if you know of anyone you think would like this blog, let them know. I've decided next year to go global. What could possibly go wrong with that??