Wreckgate continues. We are STILL waiting to hear from the second bank. Things are indeed progressing albeit at the usual escargot pace. Today I spent an hour at the bank filling out medical questionnaires so that I can receive mortgage insurance. Now I already have insurance up the whazoo in Canada but French law says, no French insurance, no Wreck. Probably not a bad policy given my state of affairs.

After all this finagling I’m not even sure I want to go ahead with the Wreck now. In case you’ve forgotten we’ve been at this since early October. It feels like it’s been a bit wrong from the start. Now with the benefit of time and distance it’s starting to feel a bit foolhardy. Nothing like signing 45 documents that you can’t understand to stir up a bit of caution.

It’s quite absurd really. Signing and initialing very official looking papers based on having a sense of the gist of things. Of course I’ve done it many times before in Canada. I mean does anyone really read every word of all the papers involved in a real estate deal? Not that I’m advising this, I’m just talking about how I tend to do things. Real estate, divorce, whatever, who has the time for all the jargon?

Now that any real income for me seems far off maybe being Wreckless is the sensible thing to do. While we wait for Madame La Banque to determine if we are indeed too rickety for their tastes we’ll poke around for other options. On Saturday we’re going to see a place that’s all done. Nothing to do but unpack, hang a few pictures and voilà, instant life in France.

See I could get into that. After all the house drama we’ve created over the years I wonder if 2 compulsive changers can renovate themselves into people who can just leave well enough alone? I don’t know, we’ll see. Certainly this morning it was clear that we’re not prepared to change the fact that we barrel ahead as usual, signing papers that agree to god knows what.

For all I know we’ve offered ourselves to be sacrificed at the next medieval feast here in the village. I’m not worried. There’s no way they’ve got a spit long enough for me. As for Neil, he’ll be a good bet, tender and sweet.

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