School days

News that schools in England are going to be allowed to set their own holiday dates was aired on television this morning, prompting Keith to muse that, if all schools just closed permanently, it would immediately solve a lot of problems.
When I queried this, he expanded on his argument.
All boys would be provided with a Meccano set, an aeroplane modelling kit and a bike, delivered in parts for assembly by them.
Well, that might keep the boys busy, especially if their interests lay in those areas, but what about the girls?
Girls? Oh well, they could be given dolls.

Yes, he is still cowering behind the sofa, hands over his head...

Sunday and Monday

So off we went again on Sunday, forth into the wilds of north west Wales, where Radio 4 and Radio Cymru battle it out for supremacy of the airwaves and, luckily for me, Radio Cymru wins. We got to listen to a couple of hours of Welsh language radio, which is useful for me because, even when I only pick up a word or two here or there, I can get the gist of what is being said a little more easily these days.

And thence to Monday, when I seem to have spent the whole day doing battle with one 'jobsworth' after another.

I have a ongoing feud with Direct Line car insurance, who have insisted on seeing written proof of the immobiliser on the car, refused to accept it when I did send it and are very dilatory in returning it and the other documentation I sent them. This is the very short version of events and has been ongoing since the end of April.

It took me most of the day and several attempts to speak to someone at Direct Line because they were 'experiencing very high volumes of calls' and, it being an 0845 number, I wasn't anxious to hang on waiting for too long.

Next was a letter from Bosch. Would we please check our dishwasher as they thought it could be one of those which is in danger of spontaneously combusting. (We've had it for nearly 10 year, so it's taken them a while to discover this). Tried to book an engineer's appointment of the website but it wasn't having any, so I had to phone. "All of our operatives are busy at the moment but we will get to you as soon as possible," the voice intoned, but at least it was an 0800 number, so free. Oh, and the website wouldn't let me make an appointment because it didn't recognise the address. It's North Wales, for Pete's sake, not Outer Mongolia!

But the best encounter of the day was good old Royal Mail.

Keith had bought me a camera from an Ebay seller (nice man that he is!), which hadn't arrived. On emailing the seller, he was sent a tracking number and, lo and behold, the postman had apparently tried to deliver on the expected day. 

I rang the local office. I worked hard to convince the man on the phone that, no we hadn't been left a 'you were out' card and no, it wasn't possible that someone had hidden it, eaten it or otherwise disposed of it. Well, he couldn't understand that at all (and he certainly wasn't going to apologise) but, yes they had the parcel there. I arranged for delivery today and then mentioned the ongoing problem I have with persuading the postmen to take advantage of the new option of leaving parcels with neighbours rather than taking them back to the depot.

"Oh well, it's not up to the postman to find  a neighbour to take it it," he said. 

"Well yes, actually it is under the new scheme." I replied.

"Oh well, I'm not sure if that's actually in place," he said.

"Yes, it is," I said. I tried to tell him that I have mentioned it a few times recently when having to collect parcels from the depot and one lady even made a note of my complaint to pass on to the manager. However, he insisted on talking over me.

"I'm not going to argue with you," he said, "Your parcel's here and we'll deliver it tomorrow."

I am left thinking, not for the first time, that maybe privatisation of Royal Mail can't come soon enough!

Out for the day

Recently, in that way that men so often have, Keith  decided we needed a new car, new to us, that is, so he set about trawling the internet looking for a Kia Sorento, which is what he had set his heart on.

Now I, not being a man, had mixed feelings about this. Granted our faithful Mitsubishi Pajero is of mature years, to be polite about it, but it has never let us down in the couple of years we've had it and, and this is the crux of the matter, it is mine. I bought it, it belongs to me, I am its owner. Keith has his van for work, so we certainly don't need two cars these days, which means that, now that we have the Kia, mine will have to be sold. 

Anyway, no point dwelling on the way my hand has been underhandedly forced, so today we set off for far flung, mysterious regions of north Wales, namely the Lleyn Peninsular. The weather was, unsurprisingly, cloudy, dank and wet - just the sort of day one would wish to be setting off for the countryside, but then, very surprisingly, by the time we reached Bala, there were streaks of blue in the sky and the Weather Fairy waved her wand and sent us blue sky and sun all the time we were over there. Interestingly, as soon as we were ready for our journey home, the grey clouds rolled in again. I am left wondering if Keith is possessed of magical powers!

I even managed a short conversation in Welsh with the car park attendant in Aberdaron!

Escape to where?

You must have seen them, these irritating, self-congratulatory programmes featuring couples, often as young as twelve (seemingly), who want to move with their millions to somewhere 'in the country' where one needs to be a millionaire simply to contemplate living there. They usually want an enormous property in the middle of nowhere, where the two of them will rattle around and sit on their balcony on summer evenings, sipping their aperitifs and contemplating endless rolling hills and valleys. They also require never-ending sunshine and have never given a thought to how they will manage if they're snowed in for weeks in the middle of winter.

Oh, and they generally want to keep alpacas. What???

These people are notoriously difficult to please and will dismiss fantastic properties in the blink of an eye because the ceilings are too low or the kitchen is fifty-nine feet long instead of sixty or it has a Rayburn instead of an Aga.

I generally try to avoid these programmes but Keith loves them as they give him the perfect opportunity to do his 'grumpy old man' routine and, believe me, he is working hard on perfecting that! So today, I dimly heard the presenter say, as he ushered the couple into the  first property for viewing,

"I am hoping that the first thing you will feel here..."

To which Keith interjected, quick as a flash,

"Is a cricket bat!"

He is on the ball, that man! Definitely the best bit of the programme.

Eggs

Lying in bed this morning, listening to Radio 4, I heard the presenter talking about farmers who had had problems making a living with cows and, instead 'getting into eggs.' 

"That must be a bit of a squash," I remarked to Keith. Yes, even at 6.30am, the old mind is razor sharp.

"Yes," agreed Keith and then in a Welsh farmer's accent, 

"We didn't have much luck milking them, though."

(I can hear Elder Daughter's groans from here...)

Thanks TK.

This is from Australia and other versions have been doing the rounds in the past but it's one of those things you read and laugh at and then quietly weep as it reminds us how ridiculous our societies have become in so many ways. Enjoy!   

NOAH TODAY

           In the year 2013, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in Australia and said:
           "Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-populated, and I see the end of all flesh before me.  

           Build another  Ark   and save 2 of every living   thing along with a few good humans."
           He gave Noah the blueprints, saying:
           "You have 6 months to build the  Ark before I will start the unending rain in Queensland first for 40 days and 40 nights."

           Six months later, the Lord looked down and saw Noah
           Weeping in his yard - but no  Ark
           "Noah!," He roared, "I've started the rain in Queensland !
           Where is the    Ark?"
           "Forgive me, Lord," begged Noah, "but things have changed."

           "I needed a Building Permit."

           "I've been arguing with the Boat Inspector
           About the need for an on-board sprinkler system.

           "My neighbours claim that I've violated the
           Neighbourhood Bye-Laws by building the  Ark in my
           Backyard  and exceeding the height limitations.  We had to
           Go to the Councill Planning Committee for a decision."

           "Then the Local Council and the Electricity Company demanded a shed load of money for the future costs of moving power
           Lines and other overhead obstructions, to clear the
           Passage for the  Ark's move to the sea.  I told them
           That the sea would be coming to us, but they would
           Hear nothing of it."

           "Getting the wood was another problem.  There's a ban
           On cutting local trees in order to save the Greater Spotted Mopoke."
           "I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the the Mopokes - but no go!"
           "When I started gathering the animals the RSPCA took me to court. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will.  They
           Argued the accommodations were too restrictive, and
           It was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in
           A confined space."

           "Then the Environmental Protection Agency ruled that I couldn't build the   Ark until they'd conducted an environmental impact study
           On your proposed flood."

           "I'm still trying to resolve a complaint with the
           Human Rights Commission on how many minorities I'm
           Supposed to hire for my building gang."

           "Immigration are checking the
           Visa status of most of the people who want to work."

           "The trades unions say I can't use my sons.  They
           Insist I have to hire only Union workers with
           Ark-building experience."

           "To make matters worse, the Australian Taxation Office seized all my assets, claiming I'm trying to leave the country illegally
           With endangered species."

           "So, forgive me, Lord, but it will take at least 10
           Years for me to finish this  Ark."

           Suddenly the skies cleared over Queensland , the sun began to shine,
           And a rainbow stretched across the sky."

           Noah looked up in wonder and asked,
           "You mean you're not going to destroy the world?"

           "No," said the Lord.   " The Australian Government beat me to it!!"

The bad dog saga

Yes, folks, Paddy here and I bet you have already assumed that I'm the one in trouble again.

Wrong!

This time it was Saint Jake - you know, the little white mop that never does anything wrong? Boy, did he blot his copybook yesterday.

It all happened when Keith stepped out to the front door in the middle of a phone call on his mobile and left the living room door open as well. (Well, you know men can't multi-task.) That was the signal for nosy Jake to peer out and having spotted a cat outside, quickly legged it in pursuit.

There are two reasons why Jenny found this difficult to understand:

1. Jake never runs if he can walk.

2. He never takes any notice of cats.

Jenny often comments that when I spot a cat, like any self-respecting terrier, I do my utmost to chase it, but it sits just out of reach and laughs at me, whereas Jake ignores any cats he sees, whilst they take one look as him and scram.

Of course, Keith got it in the neck for leaving both doors open and he then set off in the car to look for him, while Jenny took me out on foot to do the same. I must say, she didn't seem very impressed with my bloodhound capabilities, probably because I haven't got any, and it was a while before we finally found the little idiot, wandering out of someone's garden.

So Jake has been in disgrace and banished to his basket.

I think he got the message and, for once, I'm in the clear!