SANTANDER? I GIVE UP!!

Well, following on from the Santander fiasco, I mailed their form back to them yesterday advising them of my new address - sorted!
Or rather not sorted... today I received an e-mail from their Customer (dis)Service Department verifying that if I wanted to change my address abroad, then I had to complete their form - I chuckled to myself thinking I was way ahead of them - then return it in the mail to the address shown below - check, yep I did all that ha ha! Then to my horror, I read further and they also requested a copy of my passport - what?! Why had the inept Glaswegian at their Call Centre - in Scotland - not mentioned this to me? Or perhaps she had but I couldn't understand her?... No I am sure I would have heard it.
Today was put aside for packing, but now I have to print off their stupid form AGAIN, fill it out AGAIN, address an envelope AGAIN, pay another $2.50 and mail it off with another 9 mile round trip. Oh and don't forget the copy of the passport!
I feel a headache and another complaint coming on.....

Santander - Give Me Strength!!!

Ok, normally I'm a fairly laid back person and I merrily wait in line at check-outs or listen patiently to the canned music whilst on hold to Call Centres.


Not this morning though..... I bank with Santander in UK. I won't even begin to tell you about the fun and games I had with them when we moved here nearly 6 years ago. Ok, then I will, make yourself a cup of tea and sit back...





I had 2 accounts with Santander and decided to close one of them a few days before we left England. At the airport on the day we left, I thought I'd treat myself to some duty free perfume. Strangely, my debit card wouldn't work. I tried and tried and was getting more frustrated as my husband told me we were about to board the plane. I had to leave the perfume behind and as I lurked at the back of the boarding gate line, I quickly rang Santander's Call Centre - in Asia...


What I could glean from the 'Agent' was that the dumb cashier in my branch had closed the wrong account. Of course, I had destroyed the card for the account that had no money in and should have been closed. The card I had to the mistakenly closed account had everything we owned in it, equity from the house, salaries, you name it, it was in there, locked away, never to be spent.


Fortunately my husband was able to buy us some goodies on board with his card from his bank so we didn't starve. Plan B would have been to ask my young daughter for a loan from her Noddy purse.


I forget how many ridiculously expensive phone calls I made from my husband's English mobile phone to Santander's Call Centre - in Asia - once we landed in Canada.









After a few weeks and some mind-boggling security questions from their Fraud Office, I was allowed access to our money again. Oh yes and they graciously put £25 in to my account for the inconvenience.


Today I tried to notify said Bank of our new address on-line. Not possible if it's from a foreign country to another foreign country. Not even possible via their secure e-mails only accessible via their secure log-in to the secure on-line banking. Not possible either to print off their stupid 'Change of Details' form that when I clicked it, took me straight to a page that stated 'Error - Page Not Found'!


Eventually I rang their Call Centre - in Scotland and spoke to a girl who was less easy to understand than the Asian Call Centre agent. However, after 6.5 minutes, she agreed to e-mail me the form.


Now all I have to do is print the form off, complete the form by hand, address an envelope, stick on a $2.50  stamp, drive a 9 mile round trip to the Canada Post mail box, wait at least a week for it to get there (some hope) and then have it processed.


Easy isn't it? As I'll explain to my daughter later, that's how we used to do it before computers were invented.....

Happy Birthday to Him!!!

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. Now you know the sort of person that always says they don't want anything for their birthday and that they don't want a fuss, well that's him.
As he sat up in bed though with a steaming hot cup of tea, a pile of cards to open and hastily (and badly) wrapped presents, you could tell he was loving it!


What is it about being married that you breathe a silent sigh of relief as every other card opened is from your side of the family and that they remembered? Sadly I can't lay claim on that feeling totally, but I'm not here to name names. Sadly, living in Canada with a haphazard postal delivery service, especially to us country folk tends to mean that not all mail gets to us on time. In fact I consider ourselves very lucky if we get it at all!





Numerous items have mysteriously disappeared over the years, never to be seen or heard of again. A Permanent Resident Card, for example, never showed up. You can imagine the problems I had proving that and obtaining a new one. Packages from our loved ones abroad, just disappeared in to the black hole without a trace.


Anyway, I digress. I bit my tongue as my husband sat and watched soccer all morning, then the Grand Prix in the afternoon (a duplicate of the day before). I was silent and smiling instead of screaming telling him we had a house to pack up in under 2 weeks! I was polite and loving as I cobbled together lunch and was slightly surprised when he agreed to help clear out the sheds. 'One job less to do',  I thought as the rain drizzled on us in the cold autumn wind.


Our clocks went back an hour at the weekend too, so instead of laboriously changing them all, I simply took out the batteries and packed them away, ready for our move.


At the moment our house looks like a bomb has hit it from a great height. Every room has a pile of boxes adorning the wall. I know it will all come together in the end and I enjoy picking away in different rooms to give me variety as I work.


Today I emptied the kitchen dresser in to 3 boxes, another good job done. I booked the heated storage unit in our new town and modified our removal truck order. I've advised 4 companies of our new address and made a host of phone calls too. In 12 days we say goodbye to this home and make our way across the Prairies to our new one. I have sorted paperwork and spoken to family via phone and e-mail.


Later today, I am selling some of our unwanted items to make more space and more cash. I so look forward to a feeling of a new 'clutterless' house and have filled 2 more bags for the charity shop.


I have more lists than I know what to do with and feel if I don't write things down, I will remember them after we have long left this place and are at a point of no return!


I would love to fast forward 12 days now and be on our merry way with no worries in my swimming head. But would I really? I am savouring each day as I wander around the house, yard and woods talking to the birds, squirrels and chipmunks. We saw a deer grazing on the acorns last week and I hoped he would not come back after we'd left. I intend to leave a plentiful supply of seed for the birds and the chipmunks as I bid them farewell. I want to make the most of our last 2 weeks, enjoy the house we've loved so much and grown in. I'm reminded of the Steve Martin movie, Father of the Bride II where his family are moving and they mope around taking photographs of everything before they leave.


Not me, it would upset me more to look back at them knowing I'd taken them the day before we left. I'd rather just keep it all in my head as a fond memory. One day when my memory fails, then it won't be a problem any more will it? Now where did I put my lists......?

Hallowe'en - Sick or Sweet?

Last night was the night we used to dread in England but love here in Canada. I think the folk in North America embrace the concept and really push the boat out.
In England, people are more blackmailed in to handing out goodies at the doorstep for fear of what 'trick' might be played on them if they were to pretend they were not home.
Last night, we dropped our daughter at a friend's house so they could go trick or treating together around the town.





You may remember that my daughter's friend drew the trump card and dressed as Alice in Wonderland whilst my daughter was the Cheshire Cat, even so, she looked beautiful.
For around 3 hours they trekked around the houses with optimistically large bags for the candy and it was well worth the trip.
She came home with 2 large bags full of goodies and some rather funny stories.
One lady told them they couldn't have any candy until they'd both eaten an apple on her doorstep. This my daughter dutifully did and I did not dare to ask whether the woman was dressed as a witch and the apple was rosy red on one side as in Snow White!
They also called on a house where the local dentist lived. No candy there, just a new toothbrush each. Yes, I understand that he's trying to save their teeth from cavities, but what a cheapskate! A piece of fruit too might have been sweeter?
Anyway, my husband and I laughed away as we drove around looking at the costumes. Some people spend a fortune every year on new outfits, décor for the house inside and out, not to mention the treats for the children.
I've learnt that once you give out good stuff, word gets round and you can expect a constant trail to your door. Apparently on Facebook, people were posting locations in the town where ghouls and zombies might jump out at you as you walked up the path to their house.
It was all great fun. Here, if you don't want to participate or want to go out for the night, simply switch your lights out. Folk understand that it's not everyone's cup of tea. In England, we used to be afraid if we didn't answer the door in case our car was egged or covered in flour.
I was so impressed by the beautifully decorated bags handed out by some people, they clearly enjoy the whole event. Good for them I say!
It took me back to when I shared a house many years ago with 2 lads I worked with who ate us out of house and home. Of course when the first knock of the night was heard, they hid and left me to answer the door. I told the hopeful, costumed children to wait a moment and ran in to the kitchen. The only thing left that was vaguely edible in the house were some rather stale mushroom vol au vents my Mother had made me the week before and had been forgotten about. I grabbed the tin and offered the contents to the smiling children. They both peered in to the pathetic tin, looked at each other, made their excuses and left.





I could quite understand their rationale and am still grateful to this day that they weren't carrying any eggs or flour!

"Take Part in our Survey, with a Chance to Win..."

Do you like surveys? I do, or at least I did until recently. I vainly thought my opinion actually mattered to these corporate giants and that my voice may one day be heard and acted upon.
What a stupid notion.
I can't remember what happened but the other day as I was completing a survey for 'LemonTreeOpinion' on behalf of Sears Canada the penny dropped. It was an 'AHA' moment.
I have signed up to various surveys in the past, Boston Pizza, Sears Canada, Canadian Tire and Ipsos Surveys who actually reward you in vouchers.
I chose to do these as I really thought they wanted my opinion. How wrong could I be?
I don't think I'm the only one who now realises that all they are doing is advertising their company, products and services. Perhaps you realised a long time ago and forgot to tell me?
They are very clever at bringing you onboard. They lure you in with a promise of entering your name in a free draw once a month for a chance to win some useless product they can't shift or a gift token that no-one ever wins - have you ever checked the past winners' names to see if they're real people?
My nature is to complain over poor service and praise for good. That's what I expected to be able to do in these surveys - not so.

Sears Canada is a struggling department store, with redundancies and stores closing nationwide, so they need to do something to try to survive. Their 'survey' asks questions about where I like to shop and how often. Fair enough. Then it launches in to the 'rank the following in to the most important to least important'. This is where the stupidity starts. Forgive my memory if it's a bit sketchy but their 'ranking' questions go something like this,
How important is it for you to....

• Be greeted by a friendly face (of a person about to lose their job)
• Buy high quality, long lasting, fashionable clothing (for a ridiculously high price)
• Have the option of home delivery (instead of you lugging the large appliance home on the roof of your Fiat 500)
• Be able to locate a convenient store in your home town (possibly empty now with cut backs)

You get the drift. Basically they are just telling you how great they are and why you should shop with them and not Walmart.

The same applies to Boston Pizza. I like to tell them on surveys that I do not use their Sports Bar, their chicken wing special nights whilst watching the game, nor do I go there to eat in a party of more than 3 (my husband, daughter and I). No, I have no desire to try their latest invention of a pizza burger, or a burger pizza, a poutine-flavoured ice cream or spicy hot, flame grilled chicken feet (poetic licence).


In fact I've become so cynical now that I've unsubscribed from all their stupid surveys. To me a survey is the ability to tell them what's good and what's bad with their product/service. Not to listen to their back door advertising.

So goodbye Canadian Tire with your 4 season, lifetime warranty, buy 1 get 3 free, slip resistant tyres.
Goodbye Sears with your outdated stores, visible lack of assistants to assist and overpriced goods. Goodbye Boston Pizza who think they're being innovative with their menu when in fact a chef tripping on acid could come up with more delicious delicacies.


I'm through with your surveys! Unless of course you can tempt me back with a money off coupon, a free desert or some CT money........?

October New Year's Resolution?

We continually see on the television that every year the average family throws out hundreds of dollars worth of food. I have always smugly shook my head in disbelief, 'Not me!' I would whisper under my breath - that is until yesterday....
This week I have been packing away the kitchen cupboard contents in to boxes ready for our impending move. I thought I'd do a double whammy as my daughter's school has a food drive today and I could donate any non perishable, in date, unopened items we won't use.
I chuckled to myself that I would not be finding much for the school and would buy a few items for them whilst shopping. Not so.
The first cupboard was a breeze, a few hundred Tupperware containers holding a host of surprise items; the half eaten packet of Ryvita circa 2013 when I decided it was time to shed a few pounds, some sticky marshmallows my daughter had tried last Christmas and didn't like, some healthy veggie crackers I bought to balance the nutritional value of my daughter's lunch bag - they were like eating cardboard, the list goes on.

I ended up with 4 carrier bags of discarded food and 3 bags for the food drive.
I wouldn't even hazard a guess at how much the discarded food had cost me, but now I know how the Government arrive at those figures.
Yes, I'm ashamed about the wasted food. Not only could it have fed a hungry family for a couple of days, but it could have saved me a ton of money too.
So, I will continue to eat my yoghurts a few days past their sell by dates, peel the not so pretty outer layers off the lettuce and eat the middle instead of throwing the lot on the compost heap. I'll take Jamie Oliver's advice and make the stale bread into breadcrumbs instead of giving it to the birds and buying breadcrumbs from the store. I vow to use the over-ripe fruit in home-made smoothies instead of consigning it to the compost heap too.

This is a photo from the internet, not my fridge!

Even with those 4 bags of throw outs, I still feel smug. I'm thrilled that my cupboards are almost empty now, there's less to pack up and we donated plenty to needy families.
Lesson learned. In future, I will not hoard half a bag of raisins in case I make more chutney next year, I will try to decipher 'sell-by' dates in stores before I buy (not an easy task in Canada), if my daughter nags me for the latest cracker, cookie, healthy option, I will make her eat them all instead of her giving up on the first mouthful.
Wow, this is my first New Year's resolution - and it's still only October!

House Hunting 101

Well, sincerest apologies for the hiatus, but we have been ridiculously busy. Last week we travelled across the Prairies for 14 hours in the car to find a new home - and we found one!
It wasn't a simple, straightforward task however.
We had a realtor, a very nice lady who arranged all the appointments for the houses we wanted to view. On arriving at her office we were optimistic, happy and enthusiastic, but then she told us that 2 of the houses had offers on them. One of which was my absolute favourite! From then on, I had to adjust my thinking and give every house a chance. That's when my headache started.
We were driven from the office to each house and viewed 7 in an afternoon. They varied in quality, curb appeal, cleanliness and price.
Luckily I can walk in to an ex-rental or a repossession, masterfully block off my sense of smell and see potential. My husband not so much and my daughter not at all!
Having watched a million tv shows on renovations, home makeovers, DIY shows etc, I consider myself something of an expert. I would probably award myself a Home Inspector's qualification if I could. There I was, knocking and tapping at rotting door posts, pulling out the furnace filters, opening the ovens then wishing I hadn't!
I have a dislike of stained oak which ends up an orange colour. I don't want to offend any readers who love it, but I do like wood to look as natural as possible. If natural isn't possible, then stain it dark brown or paint it white.



We walked in to some homes with the orange stained oak window trim, door trim, doors, fire surround, kitchen cabinets, baseboards, floors it was all too much for me, my thumping head and my painful shoulder to imagine the sanding, staining or painting that lay in store. We would look at houses on corner lots and were told that the whole pavement surrounding the house, front and side would have to be cleared of snow within 24 hours of snowfall. I looked sadly at tiny patches of 'low maintenance luxury high end turf' in back yards only to discover it was 'Astroturf'. Could I really relax on the sunny deck that was higher than the fences and gave me a bird's-eye view of the road and neighbours (and them of me)?
By the end of the day, my head was swimming. I would have to settle for second best. I had a niggling feeling that our dream house was out there somewhere, still undiscovered.
The following day my aunt took us to a brand new building site. I'd seen them on-line and they were over our budget. She urged us to just have a look and we did.
The larger show-home had various financial incentives making it affordable and as I walked in, I could almost hear the 'Hallelujah Chorus' playing in my head. I looked around in awe, the house was gorgeous, no it was better than gorgeous. Were we really worthy enough to live in such luxury?
We walked to the master suite, then the walk in closet.

This isn't the actual closet, but it gives you an idea!

 
"Memo to self, burn every item of scruffs before we move in".
I pointed out that the fire surround and creamy grey granite countertops would all be extras. The sales guy replied that they were standard - the day was getting better and better.
As I wandered around the house with a stupid grin on my face, I knew this was the house.
My husband needed some persuading as he liked another home and thought they might accept a lower offer. Yes it was lovely too, but did I want my daughter sleeping in the basement?
With some gentle female persuasion from my daughter and I, he agreed and we signed there and then.
Today is packing, sorting, disposing and donating day - but that's tomorrow's Blog....