Tuesday 21 December 2010

Anyone for tea?

It probably shouldn't have taken all Friday.

I may have exaggerated by using the word 'inhumane'

I shouldn't have needed to e-mail the Operations Director

I certainly shouldn't have had to e-mail the Chief Executive

I probably shouldn't have used the old, 'I'm in PR' threat

I guess I ought not have rung the local newspaper

But I did

And I got fourteen fan heaters for the flat

And a tea urn. For hot water.

We may not be able to bathe, but we'll be able to wash.

And have tea. So let me know if you want to pop round for a cuppa courtesy of of Southern Gas Networks

And this is what Hadriana went through

Monday 20 December 2010

Just passing through

At last we got to go to a Christmas celebration...it felt a bit of a relief, and given the weather quite a surprise. My only observation on the event was that the hostess' comment about her house is that it feels that they are 'Just passing through', and one of the guests, a judge, was heard to say ,"When you wake up in a place like this you must feel that life has been kind to you." Just one of the living rooms was bigger than the entire cottage in Buckhurst Hill. The National Trust would probably charge you to get in. I can't help but be amused and fascinated by it. Of course I wouldn't say no, given the chance. But is it something I aspire to? No. But I remain totally fascinated. It doesn't matter how successful you are, there is always someone more so. And conversely, no matter how badly off, there is always someone suffering more.

Anyway, the snow brought us real fun...once The Cat's Mother had her arm, slightly, twisted to accompany us out and about. The Boy was desperate to do this, and has expeneded many breaths persuading me to lend him my old skis.

Sunday 19 December 2010

The Demon Barber(ina)

Another day and another cancellation...we were due to have some 18 people for dinner on Saturday, but not surprisingly the weather put paid to that. I think this year will be remembered as the Christmas that nearly was...!

I've heard it said that some fathers buy their son a tart when it's coming of age time. I've never thought it a good idea. I don't want to think about that sort of thing.
I have demanded though that when he's of drinking age I want him to take me to the pub and buy me a pint. Just one pint, and I'll be a very happy man.

One defining moment for the male is shaving...boys always want to start long before they need to, only to discover that it's a tedious task they'll have to do for the rest of their natural. But having to shave is a sign of manhood.

This week we had a fabulous shared 'manly' experience...a shave at that fine establishment, Geo F Trumper in Mayfair, courtesy of The Cat's Mum. All done with cut throat razors, it was a glorious experience. The Boy was done by a barberina, and seemed to lap it up. And why not?!

I too enjoyed my hot towels and shave