Stress...

It's been an interesting week.

On the Thursday evening before Easter I was given one month's notice to quit the place I've been living for the last three years.  Only a short while before the landlady had asked me to help her find new tenants for the empty rooms by advertising them at Kew.  Then she sent me a text message to say the house is going to be renovated and giving me notice.  Gulp.  There went my four days of relaxing; replaced by four days of trying to relax and worrying non-stop.  One month is not long, to find a new place, in London.

But I went to the Citizens' Advice Bureau with a query about how to deal with the rent, as I'd been given notice partway through a rental period, and discovered that I can't legally be given just one month's notice; I have a periodic assured shorthold tenancy, and this means I have to be given two months' notice.  However, my attempt to confirm with my landlady that this is understood and accepted has so far gone unanswered (& boy, was that a delicate letter to write! - I really don't want to seem to be being awkward as I want a civilised departure, not to mention a reference and my deposit back).  At any rate, I'm now assuming that I have two months to find a new home - taking me into mid-June.  I'm on annual leave at the moment so am focussing on trying to make some progress on the problem.

I had got myself teamed up with another person working at Kew who was also looking for new digs, and we were looking for a two-bedroom flat.  But this morning she pulled out of the arrangement.  So I'm back to looking for a house-share or a flatshare, or a studio flat for myself.  Oof; it's a stressful business, and I hate moving.  The only good thing is that it has spurred me into doing some turning-out, which I really did need to do.  I'm delivering a lot of clothes to Oxfam and the local Hospice Shop; I can't afford to give as much money to good causes as I'd like, but clean, good quality clothes will raise a few quid for them, any way. 

I shall be so sad to say goodbye to the garden at Flanders Road.  I've been very happy in this funny, run-down old house, and having a garden to tend has been a blessing.

Big sigh...