The Del Trotter of Dax

As it's become increasingly clear that I'm not going to get paid by my delightful employers and therefore we can't afford to install a bedroom floor, we've resorted to doing what we always do in times of financial hardship, sell stuff.

As it is socially unacceptable to flog your body parts (and I'm not even sure anyone would want my kidneys), I started with the contents of the barn. When I realised that Mr H had not one, not two, not three but four scaffolding towers, it seemed reasonable to get rid of some of them. Obviously this was met with some reluctance on his part - you just never know when they might come in handy - but once negotiations were over, he entered into the spirit of the thing and found me a whole load of old toot to list on the infamous Bon Coin. I managed to part him from three spare Land Rover seats, a soft-top cover for a type of Land Rover we no longer own, numerous tools and several surfboards.

There's also the camping gear dating from our trip to the Bardenas desert. Sounds idyllic but he made me sleep in a roof tent (I have vertigo) and it was minus 8. I'd brought summer sleeping bags. The lowest moment was climbing down the ladder at 3am for a wee and feeling my socks stick to the frozen roof ladder. We have not been camping since. To be fair, I did get a weekend in the Hotel Aire to compensate.

All this sales stuff does mean I am constantly fielding calls. People ring up at all hours of day and night and ask the most bizarre questions. Or even worse, don't ask any questions and expect me to convince them to buy the 5 stainless steel stove pipes that they are calling about. Surely either you want 5 stainless steel stove pipes or you don't? Or maybe they are just lonely and want a chat? Or maybe they have worked out I'm English from the advert and think it will be a cheap way of having a telephone English lesson? Who knows. But the stuff is selling and as we currently have a large empty room where the kitchen should be (no bedroom floor = no kitchen), we have everything inside, showroom style. Our friends are getting a bit fed up of popping round for an apero and leaving with a paper shredder and a punch bag, but hey, every little helps!

If we mutually live closer I'd recommend Ron Birks and I being sent in to have a chat. Bet we could have him on his knees paying us to leave...