Goodbye, Kenwyne

I wasn't going to do a blog entry today, but special circumstances made it necessary. Big news broke last night: Kenwyne Jones has been sold to Sunderland for 6 million pounds and another player. Sunderland is apparently in the Premiere League, so our little Kenwyne will be facing off against the big boys soon! Whilst it sounds like kind of a made up name, apparently Sunderland is way, way up north near Newcastle. The Range Rover was still in the driveway as of this morning. Not sure when exactly he'll be taking off, and if he'll be doing so in the Range Rover. Not really sure how these things work, but I imagine no time will be wasted in him getting started with the new squad.

In totally unrelated news, if anyone is interesting in a living in a terraced house in Southampton formerly inhabited by a footballer, I might know a place.

The Home Store

In this, my time of moving, I have found some painful shortages in terms of home shopping. In my opinion, the UK is severely lacking and in need of the following stores:

Michaels
Aaron Brothers
Pier 1
Cost Plus
Bed, Bath & Beyond
Pottery Barn
Crate & Barrel
Target

It seems like when I move, I would generally end up visiting the majority of these stores for various necessities. Here I don't know where to turn for my shower curtain/framing/wall art/garbage can/fake flower decor needs. There are a few department stores with home sections, but I find these lacking in both selection and variety for many things. John Lewis has a good kitchen section, but most of it is overly expensive. Marks and Spencer also has a small home section, as does Debenhams. But again, these are all department stores. They do not specialize in the home. There is a specific Tesco Home Store down behind West Quay but it has clothing and a lot of electronics instead of simply emphasizing the other home needs. It seems like Ikea picks up the slack for a lot of this, but it does not have the best variety of many items and you end up with all the same stuff as everyone else (although at impossible to beat prices). I really just want to get some picture frames but nowhere has has had the selection I seemingly require.

How can there be such a gaping whole in the UK chain store ways? I think the locals must just not realize what they are missing. A 'what you don't know can't hurt you' sort of situation. But I know, and so this doesn't work for me. Shame, too.

In totally unrelated news, I am a bit stuck on dissertation. I sort of fear that I have gotten a bit off track and/or am just doing completely the wrong thing. I've arranged a meeting with scary supervisor on Friday. Now it seems I'm just sort of killing time trying to think of things. This means I look at facebook. Sad, I know.

Notting Hill Carnival

I went to Notting Hill Carnival today in, er, Notting Hill. Today is a bank holiday and is pretty much just the same as Labor Day, so it was an extended weekend. The Notting Hill Carnival is a giant street fair (the largest in Europe!) that has been an annual event for 40 years, celebrating the Caribbean heritage in what used to be a London neighborhood populated by folks from the Caribbean. Whilst now it is inhabited by rich white people, they still host the carnival every year. This year it was expected to attract 2 million people! And I was one of them!

Quick rewind, went up to London yesterday. Had a take out pizza from Basilica, a well-known high class pizza delivery place located approximately 30 seconds from my new front door. We then went to check out the local movie theater at Fulham Broadway. The chairs were very comfy and there was stadium seating. I was pleased. We also took up another car load of items, so the place is starting to resemble something more than an empty shell. The next trip up will be next week and will be the actual move. So until then, I still live in Southampton.

Anyways, today was the second and main day of the carnival. There were goings-on between 12 and 7 and I believe we got there a little before 1. There was a steady flow of people headed in the direction of what we assumed to be the carnival so we just followed. We stumbled across a little parade of what appeared to be outlandishly dressed teenagers. There was a lot of music coming from random locations at unbelievable volumes. Most of the stands randomly scattered about (they were somewhat sparse) were selling fruit, Jamaican jerk chicken and corn on the cob. Sadly, some of us had cheap Tesco sandwiches before going due to cheapness. After wandering around more and hearing intense tunes, we came across another, better parade. It consisted of a bus, some semis blasting loud tunes, and in between the semis were the outlandishly dressed folks dancing along to the music. And by outlandishly dressed I mean, well, there will be a folder on picasa shortly. After a few hours at the carnival, we were a bit finished with it all (most everyone seemed to be walking around drinking beer, we were not) and headed out against the huge tides.

Oh, and I took a few more pictures of the flat and Parsons Green tube station, added to the folder on picasa. Tomorrow I have to go back to doing work. That's no deal.

Bakin' muffins

I've taken my English baking to the next level. Instead of using American recipes with American measuring instruments, I have now used English recipes converted for use with American measuring instruments. My first attempt was on Thursday, those being cupcakes. The cupcakes didn't go well, although I think they were really just undercooked and sad looking. No one would eat them so they had to be put down (aka, tossed). The second attempt was yesterday in the form of blueberry muffins. They actually turned out edible and I have been spread across the south coast for consumption. Here is a blueberry muffin picture, but it is a bit fuzzy. I apologize. Not sure what I'll be baking next. Either a more traditional cupcake (the ones I made were brownie cupcakes) or another variety of muffin. There is a wholemeal peach muffin recipe in my book that I might give a whirl.

In other news, heading back up to Parsons Green this afternoon for a second stint in the new homestead. Notting Hill Carnival is today and tomorrow, but as tomorrow is the main day we shall be spending our time there tomorrow. It's also supposed to be hot and sunny, so the people in the crazy scimpy costumes won't be too cold. That's good for them, I think.

Oh! So the neighbor, Kenwyne Jones, is in the news again. Apparently he really wants to be traded and refused to play in yesterdays game. He's gone on strike. There have been some questions about his attitude. He apparently found out Mark was leaving and feels that no other neighbor will be up to par.

Other things I have learned: Cake flour is called self-raising flour, and powdered sugar is icing sugar. I think. It may be that I just didn't know what they were called in the US. Which is entirely possible.

Houses

For the record, there is a guy in my direct eyeline wearing a US flag bandana around his head. He appears to be going for a Karate Kid sort of look. Needless to say, he looks ridiculous.

Anyways, let's discuss housing. Homes, if you will. There seem to be different sorts of criteria for these things over here than in America. You see, I have been watching both Relocation, Relocation and Location, location, location a lot on television. This means I now fancy myself as somewhat of an expert, despite the fact that I blatantly am not. Both of thse shows are just house hunting shows, where people go along and look at the hosts as if they are crazy and sometimes end up buying a house.

One of the things that intrigues me most is the sheer variety in British housing. Despite the fact that, in my mind at least, a good proportion of the houses are just bricked terraced things, they are not at all the same on the interior. While 2 bedrooms seem quite standard, for some reason when a third one is tacked on its often the size of a small American walk-in closet. There's no living room or family room, just a number of 'sitting' rooms (which, quite frankly, sounds more relaxing than having to live or have family in a room). Bathrooms end up in odd places (downstairs behind the kitchen, for example). A yard is called a garden, even if its paved and plantless. There don't seem to be many basements, and being able to stand up in a room is negotiable (although usually not a problem). Oh, and it's really cheap to buy random houses in small villages in quaint European countries. Like France or Slovakia.

I think summer may have come and gone already. Like, it lasted maybe a week. It's cold, windy and rainy again.

The new pad

Yesterday was quite odd. We loaded up the mini and hit the road with a small portion of stuff around 9:30 in the morning, heading towards Ikea in Croydon. We got to Ikea around 11 and had a quick whirl around the place. It was some place. It was two-floors and much like in Seattle, you have to make your way through the maze, which is always a bit perplexing to me. Anyways, didn't get too much stuff because we realized that we didn't know what exactly we were getting with the place. So left there a little before noon and arrived at our London destination around 12:30, scoring a parking spot right outside. However, we weren't meeting the landlord until 2, so we had to kill some time. This would become a recurring theme throughout the day.

So, we went to Starbucks down the road and got some lunch. Then we still had loads of time so went over to the actual Parsons Green and chilled until 2. So we had a brief meeting with the landlord, who was doing a bit of work on things. We got handed huge wads of keys (for some reason there are 7, and I only know what 4 of them do) and an inventory of the place. We checked out the meter readings and took a quick look around. Now, at this point we had envisioned the landlord leaving, but alas, he had gotten stuck in horrible traffic on his way over from Wales and still had about an hours worth of stuff he wanted to do to the place that day. Not wanting to chill with the landlord during this time, we head out.

This time we went to this neat looking bar on Parson Green. It was called Aragon House and I think it may be the coolest bar I've ever went to. It was in a sort of house, had a garden out back and a patio in the front. The inside was two floors, the main floor and the basement. The walls were sponge painted and there was a slight gothic flare to the decor. All of the chairs were different and there were couches in abundance. I'm sure its something on evenings on the weekends. The crowd on a Sunday afternoon seemed very posh. I felt very under preppy. This does not often occur. After what seemed like an hour, we went back over to the house. The front door was open so we figured the landlord was still there. We went back to Starbucks and bought some beans, went back and the vacuum was in the landing, so the landlord was still there. In desparate need of facilities, we went over to Pitcher & Piano, just around the corner. Finally, half an hour later we went back and the place was literally ours.

We were both a little worried that we wouldn't like the place upon closer inspection. The kitchen is literally the weak point of the place, but the landlord said they would be back in a month or to and put in a new fridge/freezer, new stove and new countertops. The floors throughout are wooden, and are actual wood, not that imtation stuff. While it's a little dark, we reckon it will look quite cool when we actually get our stuff in there. We've also got a new list of things we need. Which is bad as I am anti-spending money these days. Alas.

In one of my few blog entry edits, there are some pictures of the flat on picasa. I forgot to take outside shots, and you can't see some things too well, but it's a start. I'll be back this weekend and take some more then. It should also look cuter in a few weeks when filled with stuff.

Homeless times

At present I am officially homeless. In order to maximise my halls refund, I turned in my keys on Friday afternoon. I'll pick up the keys to my splashy London pad this afternoon. All in all, this period of homelessness is lasting me about 48 hours. I can't complain though.

One of the tasks that filled my homelessness time was going to see the Bourne Ultimatum. Being the backwards land that this is, it only came out on Thursday. Personally I thought it was a very good movie. For me the most exciting bit was the unnaturally long scene filmed not just in London, but in Waterloo train station. Waterloo, quite sadly, is the place I have visited the most and probably spent the most time at of any place in the city. This meant that instead of focusing my entire attention on the danger/action with Matt Damon, I was A) figuring out where exactly they were in the station (ooh, there's the Paperchase) and B) thinking, 'wow, Matt Damon has been to Waterloo, why wasn't I there that day'. And whilst I didn't notice it, apparently the one audible train announcement is for a train to Southampton Central. I'm telling you, it's like I live in an action movie.

Oh, and I went to the gym yesterday afternoon and afterwards I headed into town still wearing my Oregon State Beavers t-shirt. I also had my backpack on because I had been at the library prior to the gym. When I was leaving Boots this OxFam guy was trying to get people to donate large sums of money, and I accidentally made eye contact and he goes 'Hey Oregon style girl'. I gave him the look of death and ran the other way. Style?? Seriously?

Off to London soon. Stopping at Ikea on the way! Oh, and no, I am not actually moving to London today. I am in Southampton for a few more weeks.

Park and Ride

Today I went to Oxford. I parked, and then I rode. Basically both Chris and I (hi Chris) were in search of dissertation research information that is held only at one of Oxfords 89 libraries. So we decided to go today. My quest took my to the Centre for Oxfordshire Studies. Not as excited as it sounds. It was me and quite a few retired people there to research their family history. I, on the other hand, was learning about the park and rides and the failed guideway scheme on which my dissertation dwells.

My first attempt at finding stuff led me to the 2nd floor of this place, which I discovered 20 minutes later to just be the library, and so headed to the 3rd floor. Despite my best librarian's daughter training, I couldn't find anything. After asking the librarian, I was told that what I was looking for was a pamphlet. To get the pamphlet I had to fill out a request form and then follow the librarian over to the file cabinet for them to get it out for me. But it was good stuff. I found out some other key info in the afternoon.

Chris, on the other hand, had a heck of a time at the Bodlein Library (the main big famous one). He had to get a special card, literally take an oath, have his bag searched and go through rooms in which pens were not allowed only to be told that some of the stuff he was after would take 5 days to locate, and the quick stuff might show up by 5 pm. Later that afternoon, he went back to discover that they had pulled the wrong book and it would be tomorrow by the time they found the right stuff. Needless to say, Chris was not pleased and gained nothing from his trip. Oh, plus I got a new duvet. They were on sale at Debenhams.

That took up the day, and then we rode again, and um, un-parked. This is the bus we took.

I'm screaming on the inside

Well I've sent all my money away by phone. In what I thought was a slightly sketchy maneuver, I take my debit card out of my wallet and before I know it I have an appointment to pick up keys at 2pm on Sunday. It seems like the owners were waiting for the money for the deposit to go through before they arranged making their way over from Wales. Seems rational enough. But now I indeed have a monetary vested interest in a London flat. I'm still not quite sure what actually happened here. It's a bit freaky really.

In completely unrelated news, I have had a realization about British music. The music that I would most likely be seeking out and buying cds for in the US seems to be the sort of stuff they play regularly on the radio over here. One of the reasons I enjoy this sort of music in the US is that you don't hear it everywhere. But I hear it on the radio all the time here and get sort of sick of it. So I am not too sure what I should be listening to. American music that doesn't get overplayed here but gets overplayed in the US?

Big Brother is on. I best get up and change the channel. They are dancing in a circle to the Age of Aquarius.

Contract times

It's been a busy few days concerning myself and contracts. On Friday I signed my slightly incomplete work contract and sent it off. Today I had to make a last minute trip to London to sign my lease contract. Let me back up a minute here, really, regarding the flat. Last Friday we were told that the contract was in the mail and should arrive today. Alas, this morning we got a call informing us that this was not the case. The post office has been having random strikes over the last few months. It's been quite the nuisance and has been delaying a lot of mail. The estate agent called this morning to inform us that they did not trust the mail to get the contract to us and back before Sunday, so we would have to make a special trip to London to sign the contract sometime this week. Being the busy dissertation bees that we are, that meant either today or Wednesday. Due to a cricket situation, today won. After many delays, we finally made it onto the 1:00 pm train.

In an attempt to save time, we got off the train at Clapham Junction, got on a train that instead went into Victoria. This saved three tube stops, but the train just sort of just chilled for a while before actually getting into Victoria so I'm not sure how much time it saved. We got to the estate agent a little after 3. The contract itself was not particularly noteworthy - all pretty normal - except for the deal with the deposit. Now, I don't totally understand it, but it involves a special deal. Perhaps I will be able to figure out what it is at some point and explain it. But not today. After picking up a bunch of other particulars, it was back to the tube and I was on my way back to Waterloo and Southampton (someone else went to catch the rest of the cricket). Now all that remains is to meet with the landlord on Sunday at the place to exchange the keys and go over an inventory of the flat and its contents. Oh, plus we have to get the deposit into the correct account by Friday. It's all a bit overwhelming really. And totally infringing on my efforts to make serious progress on disseration. I'm sure tomorrow will be a much more productive day!

Football season

Yesterday was the opening day of football season. If you are like me, you are not sure how this can possibly be as the season ended sometime last week. Or maybe it was June. And there have still been all sorts of games in the meantime. Well, either way, the season did officially kick off yesterday. Southampton played at home (and despite the fact that they lost and I don't think Kenwyne played, he is singing audibly this afternoon), and walking through the city centre yesterday afternoon I saw absolute hords of people heading into pubs wearing striped Southampton shirts. Because you know, they have been deprived of legitimate sport to watch for ages now. And according to the news, Chelsea is supposed to be quite good this year (surprise, surprise). Luckily, Chelsea will not be my only neighborhood Premier League football team in London. If you walk ten minutes the other way, you come across the Fulham stadium. They are not nearly as good, so I shall serioiusly consider supporting them in lieu of Chelsea this year.

Speaking of the new hood, the contract is in the mail. We'll head back up to London a week from today to hand it over and pick up our keys. I'm sure this will be followed by going back to the flat and wondering what the heck we've gotten ourselves into. With any luck the flaws of the place will not be too overwhelming. At least it comes with a washer and a dryer. I couldn't handle having just a washing machine and having my laundry hanging about. I got a new duvet cover for the place yesterday. It was an amazing deal at John Lewis. It's brown.

Disseration is still chugging along. Still not a fan. Will be working on it after I start working. Not looking forward to that either.

The Environment

There seems to be quite a different view on the environment over here. Not just amongst individuals, but like on tv and stuff. It seems to be much more socially acceptable to do what you can to help the environment. Although for the most part I just kind of find it odd.

There is a tv commercial for this laundry detergent that is apparently concentrated so it comes in smaller bottles. Their approach is to claim that these smaller bottles mean there are less polluting trucks on the road. Of course there are loads of different sources discussing ways people can reduce their carbon footprint. On the Queen's last visit to the US they paid money to off-set the pollution from her flight across the Atlantic and back. It will be a truly bizarre day if that ever happens when Bush goes anywhere.

Marks and Spencers is a carbon-neutral company. SUVs have to pay higher parking charges in certain parts of London. Car taxes are based on the size of your engine. There is a general push for locally grown produce to reduce the number of air miles they must travel to reach the grocery store. However, there is no can deposit scheme in place. And you actually have to take your bottles to a 'bottle bank' if you want to recycle them. Which requires you to get in a car and drive across town. What's up with that?

In total, I'm not sure if all these efforts make much of a difference. I'm sure if everyone does their part there will be some sort of difference, but for now those unnaturally cheap airfares are still creating a stir on the environmental front. Apparently one weekend in Spain makes all of your other efforst obsolete. I say go anyways.

Mark's next door neighbor

For some time now (Mark longer than myself), we have been trying to figure out if Mark lives next door to Kenwyne Jones, a 'footballer' who plays for Southampton and who scored two goals in the game we went to last spring. This morning we have finally had closure. Let's explore the evidence:

Exhibit A: He looks like him.
Exhibit B: Drives massive, shiny new Range Rover.
Exhibit C: Has been seen with very nice 'football boots'.
Exhibit D: Gets picked up in very nice cars, one could speculate this is for training.
Exhibit E: Has large red and white tassle hanging from rear view mirror of said Range Rover (Southampton's colors are red and white).

And todays undeniable piece of evidence:
Exhibit F: Has post office delivery slip on his front door with the name: Kenwyne Jones.

If you want to learn the basics about Mr. Jones, there is luckily a wikipedia article about him here. But I can luckily give some extra information about Mr. Jones and his living habits that you won't find here. First of all, despite being a 23 year-old professional athlete, he is very quiet and does not have parties. He is often home in the evenings (or at least his car is). The houses are terraced and the connecting walls are thin, so I assure you its easy to keep tabs. He does not listen to music too often, although on Monday morning he was playing some unrecognizable tunes and singing loudly in the shower (I'm telling you, thin walls people). After watching a bit of news, we learned this was bit of joy was most likely due to him learning that Derby, the team that beat Southampton in the play-offs to get promoted to the Premiere League, made a £5 million bid to get him. I would probably have been singing, too. Sadly for him, Southampton declined the offer, but you can read about it here. For now it looks like he'll be hanging around. It's just nice to have this established before moving north.

National Insurance

I had an appointment this morning to formally apply for a National Insurance Number. Needless to say, it was very exciting. Over the course of twenty minutes, a nice many asked me questions and then wrote down the answers on a form, had me then look over the form, and I signed the form. They took photocopies of all things important, and I signed them to certify them as well. My number should arrive by mail in 6 to 8 weeks.

A national insurance number basically entitles me to work in the UK. Well, a visa enables you to work, this enables me to get paid and pay taxes legally. It's roughly the equivalent to a social security number, only its not issued from birth, per se. I'm a little worried about receiving the number before I actually start, but its seemingly no big deal to start work without it. For now, I'll have to send back my work contract with the 'NIN' line left blank.

In other news, Mark's references have come through successfully. We all thought he had it in him. Now all that remains to make my upcoming London residency official is the signing of the contract. Apparently this will be sent to the estate agent and we will then arrange a time to go up and sign it. I'm assuming this can be managed in the afternoon some day, thus allowing me to take advantage of the cheaper train fare starting at 11 am.

And random, but I have heard the term 'chocolate sauce' used in a couple of ads on tv. This is no big deal, but I find the emphasis on the words bizarre. Instead of using the phrase as if it were one long word (aka, emphasis put on the word chocolate), the emphasis is put on the word sauce, as if to declare the type of chocolate it is, not the type of sauce it is. My apologies if this makes no sense.

Mango's new abode/birthday

Yesterday was my birthday. It consisted of nachos, not doing much, and a bbq on "boat" (it was Chris's birthday, too. Hi, Chris). This is a scene at sunset taken on "boat".

So the new abode is in Parsons Green. If you go to google maps and type in the postcode, SW6 4DX, it should give you the street. I'm trying to think of where I left off yesterday. Basically, after saying we wanted the place, we paid some sort of fee and the place is off the market. Yesterday morning they emailed us links to this online application form. The form asked the standard things; where we lived currently and the name of a contact person, where we worked and our salary, job title and contact person, and for our bank account numbers. We got a call in the afternoon from the estate agent and received word that mine had gone through (I can just envision my English credit history: "She seems to shop at Waitrose", and that's about it). Mark's is still being processed.

Assuming all goes to plan, I'll be paying rent and have an actual London address in two weeks. Which quite frankly is much sooner than I envisioned, but that's when the place was available and we didn't want to risk not getting it. This is mainly unfortunate in that there are still things I need to get done in Southampton after that, plus it's cheaper here. And I'm not even done with my literature review! AAAAAHHHHH.

So the hood. Parsons Green is both the tube stop and the name of a nearby triangle-shaped park with nice pubs and rich people on all sides. Both are about a five minute walk. The main commercial street has a Tesco Express (mini-grocery store), an Itallian deli, a couple fancy bars, a Starbucks, a non-chain coffee house, and some stores selling a variety of items. If you walk up the main road about 10 minutes you get to Fulham Broadway, where there is everything else in life, including a movie theater, Chelsea football club, a fancy gym, and all kinds of other stores. Ten minutes on the tube gets you to Kensington, where there are either the museums or the big store shopping on the High Street. You can also easily get into center of London; I'd say Big Ben is about 25 minutes away. The nice thing about the neighborhood is that its basically entirely residential, meaning its relatively quiet (although I hear Parsons Green is a happening night spot) but very amenable to the hustle and bustle you expect from living in London.

Hopefully the applications will come through triumphantly this week and I won't have to worry about trying to find another place to live. Because I'm so not up for that.

London house hunt part 2

So I was back in London yesterday for a day of fun, excitement and bonding with random estate agents. I'll keep this quick as it's quite a long story. So we viewed 8 properties over a 4 hour period. Some were nice but way too expensive, some were shoddy, and some were okay. By some miracle of luck, however, the 8th place we saw was the same place that we had seen the week prior and barely missed out on. Basically, it seems the deal that had been instigated the week before had fallen through and the place was still on the market. So we bounced. Yet I would say we maintained our cool relatively well. Oh, I might also add that it was actually the cheapest place we had seen all day as well.

After declaring to the estate agent we wanted the place, we were free to go our own way. Heading up to Oxford Street, there were quite a few phone calls from said estate agent. Let's call her Angela. Every time Angela called we were fearful that something had gone wrong and we weren't going to get the place. Mark even got to call some additional party and give them money over the phone. Still not really sure what happened there, but the place is off the market right now pending the application process.

We were quite excited at this point in time but at the same time quite terrified that we had made a big mistake. I'll go more into depth about this tomorrow, I think. For now I will just continue with the progress of yesterday. We went to Belgo's for dinner at 5:05, meaning we got their cheap deal food for £5.05. Plus it was tasty. And quickly devoured.

In the evening time we went to see Wicked, over by Victoria train station. The audience, to my surprise, was only about 90% American. There seemed to be a few Europeans as well, but they were difficult to spot. As for the show, I thought it was very good. The singing was excellent (I would have gone hoarse, they must do voice exercises), and I personally found the costumes enjoyable. It made me want a really fluffy skirt. If it passes through, I recommend going to see it. Plus one of the main characters is green. You don't get that often outside of Muppet situations. The downside of going to this play was that it meant coming back to Southampton on the 11:39 train, which slowly rolled into Southampton at 1:14 am. Not ideal for anyone. So a very long day, but an exciting one that will hopefully/should result in my having found a place to live!

Heroes

They are currently showing the first season of Heroes on BBC 2. It started a few weeks ago (episode 3 is on tonight). And its already turning into some quasi-intriguing phenomenon. It's popular with the people. Example 1: at an estate agents last week one of the agents was looking at some Heroes website in lieu of, um, letting. Examples following that: it's come up on numerous occurences in random conversation. What is suprising is that many of these people have seen at least some episodes before by various means. It will be interesting to see how things progress as the season goes on. Will people lose interest? Will it be wildly popular?

And they changed all the toilet paper dispensers in the library over night. Instead of rolls now they are like upside down boxes of kleenex. Its an interesting move. I can't help but wonder what exactly brought this change about. Are little individual pieces of toilet paper more environmentally friendly? Cheaper? Most importantly, what have they done with all the old toilet paper dispensers? If they had extras I would have taken one. Those rolls of Charmin just keep getting bigger and bigger. A commercial sized toilet paper holder could come in VERY handy.

Tomorrow is day two of 'flat' searching. And with any luck, bangers and mash or whatever they call it over at Belgos. Beat the clock! What a deal.