“Oh, give Me a Home…”

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By June I was able to release my furniture from storage and have it delivered and move in.
Well, what was left of my furniture. If anyone in the UK is moving shortly, please do not use Doree Bonner. Of 8 dining chairs, 7 were broken; the marble top to a hall table was smashed; silver was missing; and virtually every other piece of furniture had a chip on it, including the piano. In addition, and not covered by the Insurance, several items were mistakenly sent to my L.I. house since I had split the delivery between the 2 places. Doree Bonner denied any negligence; they said it was my fault the pieces had gone to the wrong address (excuse me??!!) and their men had worked for them for many years. So, there then ensued several months of dealing with insurance people in the UK, an insurance adjustor in Georgia who sounded like Dolly Parton, shipping people in New Jersey, Doree Bonner, an adjudicator when I threatened to sue DB and finally the police.
I tried to report the theft of my silver to the London police who informed me that since I discovered the theft in NY it was the NY Police who should deal with it. My local precinct is around the corner from my apt. in the city so I popped in. I wish I had taken a photo of the officer to whom I explained this matter. Phoning back to London, I tried again and successfully got the London police to handle this.
So, I got my money from the insurers, had my furniture fixed and then…had to give most of it away. In London I had high ceilings and space that allowed large Victorian pieces. Here I have tiny rooms, polished floors and no place for anything except the piano. Which I don’t even play….
I am certainly learning to deal with the police in this country. I never once had anything to do with a London policeman. Back in the US, I must, by now, know the entire force of the East Hampton Police dept. First there was my case when some idiot used my name and address on the internet to have every insurance company in the country ring me up to give me a quote, have services added to my phone bill and other nuisance attacks. Then one evening at about 10pm an officer rang my bell sending me into a panic (daughter in NYC remember?). Turned out I had mistakenly pushed some secret button on my alarm system which quietly sends out the cops. If a robber had been standing behind me with a gun in my back, this single officer was supposed to take care of him. After that came the call from the Home Shopping Network which needless to say I have never used. Someone had tried to charge a computer to my credit card. The detectives are still handling this one. Then there was the mysterious charge from T-Mobile, a cell phone provider I have never used: back to the detectives again. And last, but certainly not least, came my July 4th party.
No, the police dept. wasn’t invited; they were sent by my neighbors who thought that on the Saturday of July 4th weekend at 11.40pm we were making too much noise. Sitting out on the deck, the headlights of a patrol car floodlighting the remains of our meal the way candles never did, I had to go to speak to the most embarrassed police officer one could possibly imagine. Or maybe he was just trying to keep a straight face as I stood there in my cowboy hat and boots.
The party was country and western themed: I’m trying to embrace America.