8th November 2019
Dear Dennis,
The younglings pot of white spirit - it was an empty dried yeast tin with a plastic lid - for his art oil painting, was knocked over by a cat this morning .... it (the pot of white spirits) was on the dining room table ..... he had put the lid on, however the lid leaked and white spirit soaked through the multi newspaper layers and under the cutting board protecting the table from his paints. Oil paint doesn't run at all but the white spirit spread and covered half the polished wood table .... the house now stinks of white spirits. But at least the table is nice and shiny. One of the cats was sick, in the sink, over the washing-up I'd stacked ready to be washed..... bluly cats. I wiped the table and dried it as best I could with a roll of kitchen towel. I just looked outside and one of our cats (the big tom) is sitting on a plank of wood I'd strategically place, to dry out, near the boiler flue outlet. He looks to be asleep .... are cats affected by CO ? Uh and I've now noticed the dining table is mostly devoid of polish and is looking particularly dull - the white spirit and my vigorous drying has taken all the polish off. This is definitely one of those Thursdays. Before the brunette gets in this evening I now have to re-polish the dining table and somehow get rid of the white spirit smell from the house ... a cut onion is supposed to do the trick but how do I then get rid of the smell of onion from the dining room?
Do you have Thursdays where you are?
Kind regards (what on earth does that mean?
D6
09 November 2019
29 July 2019
Belfast Sinks
I trust you are well. We've not spoken for a while now although I expect you've been on holiday and sunning yourself somewhere peaceful. I suffered an embarassing episode the other day and felt I ought to warn you of the dangers as soon as possible.
First thing, the other day, my plans got hijacked.
I was told I had to collect 2 "Belfast" sinks from places around Berkshire. Blimey bloke they're heavy. The first caused a bit of a todo, as I bent to help the chap lift the sink, I didn't notice I stood on a cord from my hareem trouser leg ... yes, as I stood up, my trousers didn't; and at the same time, the wind I was holding on to, since I got out of the car, let go noisily and uncontainably at the trouser surprise. Mel and the chap trying to help me lift the sink just stared at me in disbelief. Of course I tried to laugh it off but I don't think they saw the funny side.
Upon getting out of the car when we arrive to pick up the sink, I should have feigned a problem with the car and fiddled with something mechanical around the front whilst at the same time releasing my wind gradually and in a more controlled fashion and yes, I should have hitched my new trendy "Hareem Trousers" before attempting the lift but we learn from our mistakes and eventually we manhandled the sink into the back of my car however Mel didn't speak to me all the way home.
24 September 2006
Dear Dennis
Dear Dennis,
I would just like to type how reassuringly warm it was to speak with you again after so long, on the telephone the other day. I am pleased to hear you’ve not lost your sense of humour in the clamour for brownie points at the factory. I thank you for the parcel of qty 4xRJ45 inline connectors and assure you I’ve placed one of my rubber cheques in the post to you for a suitable amount which ought to cover at least some of the cost to your personal expenses, although as you know, I’m currently in dispute with my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and so I wouldn’t try cashing the cheque if I were you as you’ll be laughed out of your branch and ridiculed all the way down the street and back to your car. You’ll be barked at by stray dogs and scowled at by cats sunning themselves on garden walls. Old ladies may even approach you with tightly furled umbrellas and clear plastic, elasticated rain-hats. My cheque merely serves to indicate to you an amount of reparation I would be prepared to make, if the decision as to the amount was left up to me. I shall be making representation to my local newspaper regarding my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) appalling attitude towards me (a once valued customer) who even “won” a popcorn maker for being such a promising young candidate when I took out the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) account at my University Fresher Fair, just a few short years ago). I was, a couple of days ago and still am, threatened and not a little haunted by their statement that if I didn’t pay them the money they wanted (I am just a couple of hundred of pounds overdrawn) they’d;
“pass your account to a debt collection agency and they’re not as polite as we are, (the boy paused on the phone for effect and then added) … sir”
and when I complained by letter, all they could say on the matter was (patronisingly) that they were;
“sorry to hear you were offended by one of our staff telling you that we are more polite than a collection agency might be”.
Clearly they’d twisted my words to suit themselves and were in no mood to reprimand their staff for anything. I suspect they probably gave him a bonus for thinking up such a thinly veiled line. I feel sad for the brunette as she used to work for the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and had many, many good years of history with them – likewise though, as soon as she became a “student” again and they summarily changed her account to a “Student” account they now treat her like chaff as well. Well stuff ‘em, I’ll take my overdraft elsewhere. There, that’ll show them.
I was considering our conversation regarding my sophist neighbours and their latest campaign to “save the greyhound” with their banners [I am dying to entertain you]. Wouldn’t they be better to adjust their target and save the poor rabbit instead as you suggest. That poor creature gets chased ragged every night and for what? Well, I don’t know what but I’m sure my neighbours can find out for me. It is probably for an old cabbage stalk and half a carrot after it’s evenings work. Perhaps that is where their cage of rabbits came from … night time raids on greyhound tracks, rescuing exhausted, tailless rabbits. I’ve seen them on the telly – you can’t even see their legs moving or touching the ground they move that fast mate. I’ll try surreptitiously to examine their rabbits the next time I’m out in the garden. “Save the Rabbits” [I am exhausted and tailless for your entertainment] quite a catchy slogan if you ask me. I’ve noted your request for a photo of the neighbours and although at some risk to my personal health and livelihood if caught, I shall attempt to oblige.
I have been “aks’d” by our Burberry neighbours to fit a new bathroom tap set (sink + bath taps). You know the sort – laminate flooring nailed on top of uneven boards to give the impression of a modern Victorian Terrace leaving footsteps echoing for several seconds with each movement, massive telly filling the whole of the front room so they all have to watch through the hatchway from the dining room, kids all have PS2’s and telly’s in their rooms, four dustbins outside, all with different house numbers on and not a recycling bin among them, latest trainers and tracking suits, closely cropped hair, short-legged pug ugly muscle-dog with “diamonique studding in it’s collar (sex undetermined as no one has been able to get close enough yet) – salt of the earth bless ‘em. They also “aks’d” if I’d fit a new “power shower” for them but as I’ve seen their electrics - the guy has looped the electrics for their current shower out through and around the outside of their house as opposed to routing the cable under floorboards and up/down wall and the like and has strung the 6mm twin & earth up the wall on nails and then back into the house through an air-brick half way up his outside wall – I think I’ll pass on going anywhere near his electrics. He called me in one night last year as all their electrics had “gone orf whilst ‘avin a shower” – I went to examine his fuse box – he only had one fat 30 amp fuse wound up with several odd bits of wire, covering the whole house !! I removed it and prodded a replacement in with a long stick then left quickly as his lights slowly came up to heat and lit the house with an increasing glimmer. These people need protecting from themselves ! He is planning to sell his house soon and move – no one will ever get a full mortgage on it once a surveyor sees the electrics ! Still I suppose then it will be rewired and made safe at least. Seems daft though that mortgage companies are the only ones to police this sort of thing and it is generally only because of them that any work gets done properly and to within standards & regulations. They bought their boy an electric ride-in jeep last Christmas – massive thing it is – it was so big they couldn’t get it in through their front door ! Eventually, after loudly swearing at each other up and down the road, they knocked on several doors all the way down to a house with a side alley and got everyone to pass it over their fences until it reached them – they store it in their back garden (size of a postage stamp) – I hear the boy riding it sometimes – 5 yards forwards then 5 yards back again and all the time the dog trying to bite it’s wheels. He’s a sad kid, never knowing quite what to do with the presents they buy him and always trying to please his parents and thanking them so very much for the toys he doesn’t know quite what to do with – if only someone would buy him a box of soldiers or some colouring books and crayons or Lego. He struts up and down the street like Tony Blair and tries to spit just like his dad and only because it makes his mum and dad happy to see him – he’s only 5 … bless him.
Anyway the brunette has gone and got herself a new car – a red one – so I’ve been solemnly and ceremoniously handed the keys to the Escort – although she took them back today as she still needed to drive it around somewhere or other whilst I spent this morning tidying the house and making a futile attempt to coax the hoover into sucking up dirt, dust and small pieces of Lego. I have been made aware that I am expected to now deliver and collect Saul from crèche as well as deliver and collect Charlie from his school. I also must do the delivery and collection of Charlie on his swimming lesson days. I, on my part, have expressed an assumption that the brunette is going to hand over an amount of money each month, however this was met with a blank stare and a mutter.
Any way, thanks again – will you be forwarding any photos of your most recent holiday?
D
I would just like to type how reassuringly warm it was to speak with you again after so long, on the telephone the other day. I am pleased to hear you’ve not lost your sense of humour in the clamour for brownie points at the factory. I thank you for the parcel of qty 4xRJ45 inline connectors and assure you I’ve placed one of my rubber cheques in the post to you for a suitable amount which ought to cover at least some of the cost to your personal expenses, although as you know, I’m currently in dispute with my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and so I wouldn’t try cashing the cheque if I were you as you’ll be laughed out of your branch and ridiculed all the way down the street and back to your car. You’ll be barked at by stray dogs and scowled at by cats sunning themselves on garden walls. Old ladies may even approach you with tightly furled umbrellas and clear plastic, elasticated rain-hats. My cheque merely serves to indicate to you an amount of reparation I would be prepared to make, if the decision as to the amount was left up to me. I shall be making representation to my local newspaper regarding my Barclays bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) appalling attitude towards me (a once valued customer) who even “won” a popcorn maker for being such a promising young candidate when I took out the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) account at my University Fresher Fair, just a few short years ago). I was, a couple of days ago and still am, threatened and not a little haunted by their statement that if I didn’t pay them the money they wanted (I am just a couple of hundred of pounds overdrawn) they’d;
“pass your account to a debt collection agency and they’re not as polite as we are, (the boy paused on the phone for effect and then added) … sir”
and when I complained by letter, all they could say on the matter was (patronisingly) that they were;
“sorry to hear you were offended by one of our staff telling you that we are more polite than a collection agency might be”.
Clearly they’d twisted my words to suit themselves and were in no mood to reprimand their staff for anything. I suspect they probably gave him a bonus for thinking up such a thinly veiled line. I feel sad for the brunette as she used to work for the Barclays Bankers (Company name disguised to protect the innocent) and had many, many good years of history with them – likewise though, as soon as she became a “student” again and they summarily changed her account to a “Student” account they now treat her like chaff as well. Well stuff ‘em, I’ll take my overdraft elsewhere. There, that’ll show them.
I was considering our conversation regarding my sophist neighbours and their latest campaign to “save the greyhound” with their banners [I am dying to entertain you]. Wouldn’t they be better to adjust their target and save the poor rabbit instead as you suggest. That poor creature gets chased ragged every night and for what? Well, I don’t know what but I’m sure my neighbours can find out for me. It is probably for an old cabbage stalk and half a carrot after it’s evenings work. Perhaps that is where their cage of rabbits came from … night time raids on greyhound tracks, rescuing exhausted, tailless rabbits. I’ve seen them on the telly – you can’t even see their legs moving or touching the ground they move that fast mate. I’ll try surreptitiously to examine their rabbits the next time I’m out in the garden. “Save the Rabbits” [I am exhausted and tailless for your entertainment] quite a catchy slogan if you ask me. I’ve noted your request for a photo of the neighbours and although at some risk to my personal health and livelihood if caught, I shall attempt to oblige.
I have been “aks’d” by our Burberry neighbours to fit a new bathroom tap set (sink + bath taps). You know the sort – laminate flooring nailed on top of uneven boards to give the impression of a modern Victorian Terrace leaving footsteps echoing for several seconds with each movement, massive telly filling the whole of the front room so they all have to watch through the hatchway from the dining room, kids all have PS2’s and telly’s in their rooms, four dustbins outside, all with different house numbers on and not a recycling bin among them, latest trainers and tracking suits, closely cropped hair, short-legged pug ugly muscle-dog with “diamonique studding in it’s collar (sex undetermined as no one has been able to get close enough yet) – salt of the earth bless ‘em. They also “aks’d” if I’d fit a new “power shower” for them but as I’ve seen their electrics - the guy has looped the electrics for their current shower out through and around the outside of their house as opposed to routing the cable under floorboards and up/down wall and the like and has strung the 6mm twin & earth up the wall on nails and then back into the house through an air-brick half way up his outside wall – I think I’ll pass on going anywhere near his electrics. He called me in one night last year as all their electrics had “gone orf whilst ‘avin a shower” – I went to examine his fuse box – he only had one fat 30 amp fuse wound up with several odd bits of wire, covering the whole house !! I removed it and prodded a replacement in with a long stick then left quickly as his lights slowly came up to heat and lit the house with an increasing glimmer. These people need protecting from themselves ! He is planning to sell his house soon and move – no one will ever get a full mortgage on it once a surveyor sees the electrics ! Still I suppose then it will be rewired and made safe at least. Seems daft though that mortgage companies are the only ones to police this sort of thing and it is generally only because of them that any work gets done properly and to within standards & regulations. They bought their boy an electric ride-in jeep last Christmas – massive thing it is – it was so big they couldn’t get it in through their front door ! Eventually, after loudly swearing at each other up and down the road, they knocked on several doors all the way down to a house with a side alley and got everyone to pass it over their fences until it reached them – they store it in their back garden (size of a postage stamp) – I hear the boy riding it sometimes – 5 yards forwards then 5 yards back again and all the time the dog trying to bite it’s wheels. He’s a sad kid, never knowing quite what to do with the presents they buy him and always trying to please his parents and thanking them so very much for the toys he doesn’t know quite what to do with – if only someone would buy him a box of soldiers or some colouring books and crayons or Lego. He struts up and down the street like Tony Blair and tries to spit just like his dad and only because it makes his mum and dad happy to see him – he’s only 5 … bless him.
Anyway the brunette has gone and got herself a new car – a red one – so I’ve been solemnly and ceremoniously handed the keys to the Escort – although she took them back today as she still needed to drive it around somewhere or other whilst I spent this morning tidying the house and making a futile attempt to coax the hoover into sucking up dirt, dust and small pieces of Lego. I have been made aware that I am expected to now deliver and collect Saul from crèche as well as deliver and collect Charlie from his school. I also must do the delivery and collection of Charlie on his swimming lesson days. I, on my part, have expressed an assumption that the brunette is going to hand over an amount of money each month, however this was met with a blank stare and a mutter.
Any way, thanks again – will you be forwarding any photos of your most recent holiday?
D
28 July 2006
Dear Dennis 28/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
My apologies for leaving you like that – I’ve just resuscitated a starving cat. It was pawing at the window pathetically and making as if chewing its arm – I think the teeth marks in the food sachet were going a bit far but I got the message and gave it two sachets to make up for starving poor “Thompson” (ginger tom) [ thinner than it used to be].
Last night I found a brilliant way to silence our dribbling, swearing, raging, shouting, screaming, kicking nine year old … I shoved him out of the front door in his pyjamas to stand on our front step – he shut up immediately and asked very politely to be let in and promised to be good and to go to bed without disturbing his brother. You see, in our street some of the kids go to bed at normal times and others are allowed to roam around well into the night. Youngling comes into the first batch but would dearly like to be in the second and I presume until now has hidden the fact that he goes to bed at a normal time (8:30) from the first batch. Whilst he was outside the front door in his pyjamas he could hear the roaming batch coming up the street kicking the dustbins and, I would think, he correctly imagined what would happen if they saw him standing there. Another fine weapon for my arsenal.
Anyway the upshot is that I now have less than a day to return the house to some semblance of order and to feed the kids all the food I was supposed to have been feeding them whilst the brunette has been away.
Actually I made a salad for lunch the other day – half way through Youngling said he didn’t like cheese, he didn’t like quiche (I don’t blame him), doesn’t like potatoes, doesn’t like hard boiled eggs, isn’t keen on cucumber, Oh and he thought the lettuce and tomato’s tasted like they had “gone off”. He only liked “squeezy cheese” and hot-dogs.
Did I tell you I emailed MP Jim Murphy [mailto:jimmurphymp@parliament.uk] with my problems regarding the Unemployment people – I told him the whole sorry story (he is the minister in charge of that lot after all) I had an email from his secretary yesterday saying he couldn’t help as I wasn’t a constituent of his (Renfrewshire) and that she had forwarded all my emails to the DWP !! I’m for it now, they’ll tie my claim up in red tape and pointless to’ing and fro’ing between different offices for months ! Bugger ! There that’ll teach me to complain ! I won’t do that again in a hurry. I’m stuffed now. When I go in to sign on next Tuesday I just know they’ll give me a good spanking.
My sister just emailed – she wants me to go over and help her empty our Dads loft – is she mad? It is going to be the hottest day of the century and she thinks she’ll get someone to willingly go and work in a loft? Why today? Why at all? Why would anyone want their loft emptied? Well it could be an excuse for not being able to tidy the house before the brunette gets back … but at what price? It’s going to be hot in that loft and not to mention the wasps nests he seems to cultivate. But the silly old sod needs help so I’d better go … he can feed the kids hmmm
My apologies for leaving you like that – I’ve just resuscitated a starving cat. It was pawing at the window pathetically and making as if chewing its arm – I think the teeth marks in the food sachet were going a bit far but I got the message and gave it two sachets to make up for starving poor “Thompson” (ginger tom) [ thinner than it used to be].
Last night I found a brilliant way to silence our dribbling, swearing, raging, shouting, screaming, kicking nine year old … I shoved him out of the front door in his pyjamas to stand on our front step – he shut up immediately and asked very politely to be let in and promised to be good and to go to bed without disturbing his brother. You see, in our street some of the kids go to bed at normal times and others are allowed to roam around well into the night. Youngling comes into the first batch but would dearly like to be in the second and I presume until now has hidden the fact that he goes to bed at a normal time (8:30) from the first batch. Whilst he was outside the front door in his pyjamas he could hear the roaming batch coming up the street kicking the dustbins and, I would think, he correctly imagined what would happen if they saw him standing there. Another fine weapon for my arsenal.
Anyway the upshot is that I now have less than a day to return the house to some semblance of order and to feed the kids all the food I was supposed to have been feeding them whilst the brunette has been away.
Actually I made a salad for lunch the other day – half way through Youngling said he didn’t like cheese, he didn’t like quiche (I don’t blame him), doesn’t like potatoes, doesn’t like hard boiled eggs, isn’t keen on cucumber, Oh and he thought the lettuce and tomato’s tasted like they had “gone off”. He only liked “squeezy cheese” and hot-dogs.
Did I tell you I emailed MP Jim Murphy [mailto:jimmurphymp@parliament.uk] with my problems regarding the Unemployment people – I told him the whole sorry story (he is the minister in charge of that lot after all) I had an email from his secretary yesterday saying he couldn’t help as I wasn’t a constituent of his (Renfrewshire) and that she had forwarded all my emails to the DWP !! I’m for it now, they’ll tie my claim up in red tape and pointless to’ing and fro’ing between different offices for months ! Bugger ! There that’ll teach me to complain ! I won’t do that again in a hurry. I’m stuffed now. When I go in to sign on next Tuesday I just know they’ll give me a good spanking.
My sister just emailed – she wants me to go over and help her empty our Dads loft – is she mad? It is going to be the hottest day of the century and she thinks she’ll get someone to willingly go and work in a loft? Why today? Why at all? Why would anyone want their loft emptied? Well it could be an excuse for not being able to tidy the house before the brunette gets back … but at what price? It’s going to be hot in that loft and not to mention the wasps nests he seems to cultivate. But the silly old sod needs help so I’d better go … he can feed the kids hmmm
Dear Dennis 28/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
Let me put you in the picture … temperature at my keyboard is 29 degrees, one child dressed and the youngest refusing (Saul stayed in pyjamas all day yesterday), listening to Chas ‘n’ Dave, children have breakfasted, bathroom needs cleaning, front room needs tidying, kitchen needs a ceiling, Sauls bedroom (can’t see the floor) needs tidying as does Charlie’s, fridge still full of the food the brunette left and planned for me to feed the kids with whilst she was away, takeaway wrappers overflowing from the bin, dining table currently supporting:
my cordless drill,
a Tennon saw,
set of spanners (English),
two IDE hard drives,
dismantled stereo (Chas ‘n’ Dave playing on PC),
two temperature gauges,
several dead or dying batteries
seven used breakfast bowls
three cups of cold tea (Asam)
1 pile of unopened mail
another pile of unopened mail
1 roll of sellotape
instruction leaflet for a pedometer
pile of washing I took off the line yesterday in the rain
1 broken place mat
half of Sauls bowl of “Cheerio’s” (cats have seen off the milk but refuse the cheerio’s)
Next doors front door key (they went away at the beginning of the week and left me to … FEED THEIR CAT … hang on back in a bit
Let me put you in the picture … temperature at my keyboard is 29 degrees, one child dressed and the youngest refusing (Saul stayed in pyjamas all day yesterday), listening to Chas ‘n’ Dave, children have breakfasted, bathroom needs cleaning, front room needs tidying, kitchen needs a ceiling, Sauls bedroom (can’t see the floor) needs tidying as does Charlie’s, fridge still full of the food the brunette left and planned for me to feed the kids with whilst she was away, takeaway wrappers overflowing from the bin, dining table currently supporting:
my cordless drill,
a Tennon saw,
set of spanners (English),
two IDE hard drives,
dismantled stereo (Chas ‘n’ Dave playing on PC),
two temperature gauges,
several dead or dying batteries
seven used breakfast bowls
three cups of cold tea (Asam)
1 pile of unopened mail
another pile of unopened mail
1 roll of sellotape
instruction leaflet for a pedometer
pile of washing I took off the line yesterday in the rain
1 broken place mat
half of Sauls bowl of “Cheerio’s” (cats have seen off the milk but refuse the cheerio’s)
Next doors front door key (they went away at the beginning of the week and left me to … FEED THEIR CAT … hang on back in a bit
21 July 2006
Dear Dennis 21/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
Thanks for Tims email address thing and for looking out for the TR thingy.
Did I tell you about the little boy we meet on the walk to school in the mornings?
Some children have an imaginary friend – some may have an imaginary animal – this chap has an antelope! – well a whole herd of imaginary antelope actually! His poor mum was having terrible trouble getting him to school as the herd kept raiding gardens on the way and the little chap couldn’t handle them very well. Things have moved on a bit and thankfully his herd of imaginary antelope have gone to a zoo for a while – but he has now got an imaginary Red Panda. Trouble is they don’t move very fast (well not as fast as antelope in any case) so his mums journey to take him to school now takes three times longer as Red Pandas only have short legs and small feet!
I hope you and C have read the latest additions to my web log [www.d6equj5.blogspot.com]
One of our neighbours has an autistic 15 year old. One night a couple of weeks ago he got out of their house at 3 in the morning with their car keys, got into and started their car and was revving it up surrounded by shouting neighbours (I didn’t hear a thing and only caught up with the news the following day) luckily he couldn’t manage to jam the car into gear but did do some damage to the car in front as he let the handbrake off and rolled into it. Well, last week he got out of the house again – this time at four in the morning and he made a “camp” with sheets and garden sticks in the middle of the road. Last night / this morning he was out again although this time he had some tins of different colours of gloss paint from a neighbours front garden (apparently left out for the dustman). He painted the road purple, blue and terracotta. Thankfully and miraculously he missed all the parked cars but the road looks quite pretty now. It must be the heat or something because Saul got up last night, crept into our bedroom and removed the kittens from their basket one by one and took them down stairs and we didn’t realise until the morning. I think we’re going to “stair-gate” his room for a while.
We have 17 tomatoes on our plants and have had a dozen strawberries although it doesn’t look like there will be any more of those.
You all have a good weekend too … dude man.
D.
Thanks for Tims email address thing and for looking out for the TR thingy.
Did I tell you about the little boy we meet on the walk to school in the mornings?
Some children have an imaginary friend – some may have an imaginary animal – this chap has an antelope! – well a whole herd of imaginary antelope actually! His poor mum was having terrible trouble getting him to school as the herd kept raiding gardens on the way and the little chap couldn’t handle them very well. Things have moved on a bit and thankfully his herd of imaginary antelope have gone to a zoo for a while – but he has now got an imaginary Red Panda. Trouble is they don’t move very fast (well not as fast as antelope in any case) so his mums journey to take him to school now takes three times longer as Red Pandas only have short legs and small feet!
I hope you and C have read the latest additions to my web log [www.d6equj5.blogspot.com]
One of our neighbours has an autistic 15 year old. One night a couple of weeks ago he got out of their house at 3 in the morning with their car keys, got into and started their car and was revving it up surrounded by shouting neighbours (I didn’t hear a thing and only caught up with the news the following day) luckily he couldn’t manage to jam the car into gear but did do some damage to the car in front as he let the handbrake off and rolled into it. Well, last week he got out of the house again – this time at four in the morning and he made a “camp” with sheets and garden sticks in the middle of the road. Last night / this morning he was out again although this time he had some tins of different colours of gloss paint from a neighbours front garden (apparently left out for the dustman). He painted the road purple, blue and terracotta. Thankfully and miraculously he missed all the parked cars but the road looks quite pretty now. It must be the heat or something because Saul got up last night, crept into our bedroom and removed the kittens from their basket one by one and took them down stairs and we didn’t realise until the morning. I think we’re going to “stair-gate” his room for a while.
We have 17 tomatoes on our plants and have had a dozen strawberries although it doesn’t look like there will be any more of those.
You all have a good weekend too … dude man.
D.
19 July 2006
Dear Dennis 19/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
I have just secured voluntary work creating and updating the local church web-site to stop me going completely insane.
Do you have or do you know of a TrueType font called “in_tongues” as I think this could be the thing that would jazz up their site nicely.
God Bless
D
-----Original Message-----From: dennis [mailto:Dennis] Sent: Thursday, July 20, 2006 5:09 PMTo: David Subject: Re: and
D,
you are a first class idiot.
That's tempting fete.
I have just secured voluntary work creating and updating the local church web-site to stop me going completely insane.
Do you have or do you know of a TrueType font called “in_tongues” as I think this could be the thing that would jazz up their site nicely.
God Bless
D
-----Original Message-----From: dennis [mailto:Dennis] Sent: Thursday, July 20, 2006 5:09 PMTo: David Subject: Re: and
D,
you are a first class idiot.
That's tempting fete.
18 July 2006
Dear Dennis 18/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
I am dreaming of a Token Ring hub 19” rack unit thingy – you know, the box what screws into the racks – Token Ring hub – you don’t need them any more at the factory as you use Ethernet so you must have one for the skip – come on bloke, send me one eh? Eh? I need it to run my temperature controller in my shed – it couldn’t handle the 42 degrees today and popped. You used to tinker with Maplin Electronics didn’t you? I have one of their K8000 and K8001 units controlling the temperature and two stepper motors for my solar panel to make it “chase the sun”. It also looks after the door lock on the shed and the lighting and the external garden light system and cat intrusion alarms. So you see how desperate this is Dennis. Come on just one of the old Token Ring boxes eh? Eh? Eh?
D
I am dreaming of a Token Ring hub 19” rack unit thingy – you know, the box what screws into the racks – Token Ring hub – you don’t need them any more at the factory as you use Ethernet so you must have one for the skip – come on bloke, send me one eh? Eh? I need it to run my temperature controller in my shed – it couldn’t handle the 42 degrees today and popped. You used to tinker with Maplin Electronics didn’t you? I have one of their K8000 and K8001 units controlling the temperature and two stepper motors for my solar panel to make it “chase the sun”. It also looks after the door lock on the shed and the lighting and the external garden light system and cat intrusion alarms. So you see how desperate this is Dennis. Come on just one of the old Token Ring boxes eh? Eh? Eh?
D
Dear Dennis 18/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
Not to worry – the brunette has found an ‘otel (and amazingly we could pay using paypal!). They seem to converse in a strange dialect up there but I’m sure she’ll cope – she is after all a BSc Hons and no longer a HSe Wf.
I sign-on today so I’m gathering myself for the inevitable anti-self-esteem gas they release in ‘that’ building. It smells like a mixture of B.O., Linx and OMO washing powder. It is always worse in this weather but then at the end of the summer we start to get feint traces of coconut essence from the tanning lotions and the floor gets slightly sandy from where my co-signers time it a bit tight and have to dash over from the airport once they touch-down from their hols. I just don’t know what the excuse will be this week for not granting me any benefits but hopefully they’ve not added any other branch offices to the wide range they seem to send my claim to on a regular basis. I know they are trying to “lose” my claim and miraculously it has resisted being “lost” up until now but some day soon they are going to tell me they have no record of my claim and I’ll have to start the process all over again. I gave up on my MP a while ago as he just seemed to make things worse with his “I demand you do something about this” letters.
Have to go now as washing up needs doing and my hot-melt glue gun is warmed and ready for the daily toy mending session.
D
Not to worry – the brunette has found an ‘otel (and amazingly we could pay using paypal!). They seem to converse in a strange dialect up there but I’m sure she’ll cope – she is after all a BSc Hons and no longer a HSe Wf.
I sign-on today so I’m gathering myself for the inevitable anti-self-esteem gas they release in ‘that’ building. It smells like a mixture of B.O., Linx and OMO washing powder. It is always worse in this weather but then at the end of the summer we start to get feint traces of coconut essence from the tanning lotions and the floor gets slightly sandy from where my co-signers time it a bit tight and have to dash over from the airport once they touch-down from their hols. I just don’t know what the excuse will be this week for not granting me any benefits but hopefully they’ve not added any other branch offices to the wide range they seem to send my claim to on a regular basis. I know they are trying to “lose” my claim and miraculously it has resisted being “lost” up until now but some day soon they are going to tell me they have no record of my claim and I’ll have to start the process all over again. I gave up on my MP a while ago as he just seemed to make things worse with his “I demand you do something about this” letters.
Have to go now as washing up needs doing and my hot-melt glue gun is warmed and ready for the daily toy mending session.
D
14 July 2006
Dear Dennis 14/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
I have an idea. Bear with me for a moment. (Bear or Bare?)
Q. What is it that we all do when turning the tap on to get a drink of water?
A. We let the tap run for a minute or so to let the colder, clearer water come through.
Q. Is that not a criminal waste of resources?
I don’t know of any such device on the market just now.
If only some plumbing genius such as you could come up with a design of tap which continually circulates the water in the very top end of the pipe back down to further back in the system so that the water at the top is continually renewed and constantly cool and fresh. It needn’t be pumped using electricity as capillary action or convection could possibly be used to circulate cool>warm>cool water.
Once you have considered this and put it to your mates at the pub and decide to knock up a trial device – I’ll test it for you.
D.
I have an idea. Bear with me for a moment. (Bear or Bare?)
Q. What is it that we all do when turning the tap on to get a drink of water?
A. We let the tap run for a minute or so to let the colder, clearer water come through.
Q. Is that not a criminal waste of resources?
I don’t know of any such device on the market just now.
If only some plumbing genius such as you could come up with a design of tap which continually circulates the water in the very top end of the pipe back down to further back in the system so that the water at the top is continually renewed and constantly cool and fresh. It needn’t be pumped using electricity as capillary action or convection could possibly be used to circulate cool>warm>cool water.
Once you have considered this and put it to your mates at the pub and decide to knock up a trial device – I’ll test it for you.
D.
11 July 2006
Dear Dennis 11/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
Thanks for your words mate, you cheer me up no end. Hows the guzzi?
On the matter of the brunettes course – she has decided to take the one at Liverpool Uni as it is only four days whereas the Keale course was for two weeks and although she really wants to meet you and Carol, we’ve decided we can only do without her for four days at the moment but really, thank you so much for your kind offer.
Aiye come the revolution.
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis [mailto:dennis] Sent: Tuesday, July 11, 2006 5:34 PMTo: David Subject: Re: Tuesday
Holiday!! not yet matey weeks to go yet. I reckon you should send your saga to the department of work and pensions minister and No.10 so they can see what a shambles it is and how they are messing peoples lives up. Come the revolution eh?
Dennis
Thanks for your words mate, you cheer me up no end. Hows the guzzi?
On the matter of the brunettes course – she has decided to take the one at Liverpool Uni as it is only four days whereas the Keale course was for two weeks and although she really wants to meet you and Carol, we’ve decided we can only do without her for four days at the moment but really, thank you so much for your kind offer.
Aiye come the revolution.
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis [mailto:dennis] Sent: Tuesday, July 11, 2006 5:34 PMTo: David Subject: Re: Tuesday
Holiday!! not yet matey weeks to go yet. I reckon you should send your saga to the department of work and pensions minister and No.10 so they can see what a shambles it is and how they are messing peoples lives up. Come the revolution eh?
Dennis
Dear Dennis 11/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
I trust you are well and on holiday somewhere relaxing and recovering your composure to return with gusto and renewed presence to the factory.
Me? Well I phoned the Unemployment people yesterday – my local branch told me that they had sent my claim to Kent (this is new but I soon found out they are now calling the infamous Canterbury – Kent) and also, because Kent now had my claim, they at the local branch couldn’t answer any questions. I called Kent (on the Canterbury number) and they answered straight away! Wow this was indeed a change for the good. Unfortunately for me though they then told me they had sent my claim to Nottingham (second time in eight weeks). I dutifully called Nottingham to be told that since it was a Reading claim, they couldn’t answer and I’d have to speak to my local branch…
I emailed my MP and asked him to please stop helping me as his intervention had caused my claim to be dumped into some interminable loop by the Benefits Agency – I’d rather just sit it out until they figured I’d waited long enough and was again compliant and suitably subservient, showing enough deference and stopped asking awkward questions.
This morning I did the same and rang the Benefits agency local office – I was told my claim was at Kent.
I rang Kent (Canterbury) – I was told my claim was at NEWCASTLE!
“Could I have the number for Newcastle please?” “Sorry Newcastle don’t accept telephone enquiries”
There, they’ve sorted it out – clearly each time they said they'd sent it to Nottingham they’d actually sent it to Newcastle but the people they employ on the telephones don’t know the difference as they’ve not been in the country long enough to learn our geography and so kept telling me my claim was sent to the wrong place – no wonder Nottingham never knew anything about my claim!
We are just waiting for the Income Tax refund … what a day that will be. I must admit we shed group tears the day I received the notification from the tax office that the factory had taken money they shouldn’t have. After all they didn’t need to take the money, I was broken by that time – it was just weeks after Saul was born and we were scared stiff. I suppose it was just an extra kick just because they could, but the difference it would have made to me and the brunette is astronomical – I’ve been taken to court twice for Council tax where I could have paid. Credit cards and mortgage are "distressed" and behind with payments where they needn’t have been – if only they’d had just a little empathy or social conscience instead of viciousness and for what? I hadn’t even really done anything wrong otherwise they’d have sacked me instead of the redundancy farce. I needn’t have sold so much stuff from the shed on @bay, I might just have been able to get further in my degree before we ran out of money … they really needn’t have done it mate.
Ah deep breaths.
Saul and I have watered the tomatoes and now we’re gonna watch StarWars
Laters
D.
I trust you are well and on holiday somewhere relaxing and recovering your composure to return with gusto and renewed presence to the factory.
Me? Well I phoned the Unemployment people yesterday – my local branch told me that they had sent my claim to Kent (this is new but I soon found out they are now calling the infamous Canterbury – Kent) and also, because Kent now had my claim, they at the local branch couldn’t answer any questions. I called Kent (on the Canterbury number) and they answered straight away! Wow this was indeed a change for the good. Unfortunately for me though they then told me they had sent my claim to Nottingham (second time in eight weeks). I dutifully called Nottingham to be told that since it was a Reading claim, they couldn’t answer and I’d have to speak to my local branch…
I emailed my MP and asked him to please stop helping me as his intervention had caused my claim to be dumped into some interminable loop by the Benefits Agency – I’d rather just sit it out until they figured I’d waited long enough and was again compliant and suitably subservient, showing enough deference and stopped asking awkward questions.
This morning I did the same and rang the Benefits agency local office – I was told my claim was at Kent.
I rang Kent (Canterbury) – I was told my claim was at NEWCASTLE!
“Could I have the number for Newcastle please?” “Sorry Newcastle don’t accept telephone enquiries”
There, they’ve sorted it out – clearly each time they said they'd sent it to Nottingham they’d actually sent it to Newcastle but the people they employ on the telephones don’t know the difference as they’ve not been in the country long enough to learn our geography and so kept telling me my claim was sent to the wrong place – no wonder Nottingham never knew anything about my claim!
We are just waiting for the Income Tax refund … what a day that will be. I must admit we shed group tears the day I received the notification from the tax office that the factory had taken money they shouldn’t have. After all they didn’t need to take the money, I was broken by that time – it was just weeks after Saul was born and we were scared stiff. I suppose it was just an extra kick just because they could, but the difference it would have made to me and the brunette is astronomical – I’ve been taken to court twice for Council tax where I could have paid. Credit cards and mortgage are "distressed" and behind with payments where they needn’t have been – if only they’d had just a little empathy or social conscience instead of viciousness and for what? I hadn’t even really done anything wrong otherwise they’d have sacked me instead of the redundancy farce. I needn’t have sold so much stuff from the shed on @bay, I might just have been able to get further in my degree before we ran out of money … they really needn’t have done it mate.
Ah deep breaths.
Saul and I have watered the tomatoes and now we’re gonna watch StarWars
Laters
D.
08 July 2006
Dear Dennis 8/7/2006
-----Original Message-----From: dennis Sent: Friday, July 07, 2006 11:59 AMTo: David
Subject: RE: Radio Active
Dear Dave
I have had a neck since some twit ran into the back of my company van some years ago. Congrats to the brunette it's a big thing. Not the hat the degree. An hons eh , I 've seen that somewhere too. I believe though that it means more depending upon whom it is attached and what their actually like in action.Saul has what I believe is called a "hole in the heart". I had one of those when I was born and had a pioneerin op when I was 3. As you see I am unaffected and I will gladly show him my scar. I believe that they are more common than I knew and that indeed they do heal up on their own. I read an interesting study though that showed a link between that and migraine. They found that in many sufferers that they either had had or had an undiagnised / unhealed HITH. It's on the web somewhere.Still no Fridgemagnets cd sorry.I'm listening to the Stones at the moment they were great you know and some of the songs are very easy. I need some sheet music and a slide guitar now. Dino
Dear Dennis,
I believe I’ve never been to bed with an “Honourable” person before (I presume hons means honourable). I made her honourshipness two cups of coffee yesterday – I’m trying to get some birthday honours.
Yes, you’ve hit the HITH on the head there mate although looking it up on the wibbly wobbly and all I get from googly is Hole In the Head – some affliction of tropical fish I believe. We’ve got pamphlets though and the brunette is virtually a doctor now so she surely knows. I’ve been adjusting an old parking radar module I had from one of the robots, trying to tune it to be able to “see through” clothes, skin and gizzards – I can’t find out what frequency to use though and I can’t even “see through” one of the kittens (one has to test these things on animals first) but don’t tell the ALF neighbours! Maybe I should increase the voltage in the transducer. I thought in one experiment I had it tuned just right and it was seeing through the kitten but when I looked around the lead screen the little bugger had moved! I had to get the sellotape out.
Did I tell you there was a SAUL WHATSIT picking up a degree in Geography (human) at the Uni ceremony? What a coincidence.
I’ve got no Stones music – something I’ve regretted for a while now.
Ah! Good news – Mr Income Tax contacted me and has completed his investigation of my tax payments whilst at the factory and especially the money Rita took off my redundancy settlement – Mr Tax is going to refund me a thing for more than a FASAND QUID !! a windfall indeed! I’m over joyed! My thoughts immediately sidled over towards a roof extension for the shed but the brunette caught me looking at the lumber catalogue and says the children need clothes and shoes then food then banks then credit cards then car service then ink cartridges for the printer … my shed didn’t even feature on her list! Still, never mind, I expect she’s right – she normally is – I’ve seen a skip down the road with some interesting bits of wood in so I’ll take a trip out late this evening and see what I can get.
Now, I’ve got the tax question resolved so who do I speak to about the weight problem? Since they spat me out of the factory three years ago, I’ve gained an incredible 5 stones! It is clearly the factory’s fault so who can I talk to about it? Compensation? I’ve only put it all on as a result of being made redundant so surely it is Rita’s fault. I should maybe try writing to Paul & Gordon in the first instance.
Any road it’s a Saturday and I’ve some very important things to be doing.
D.
Subject: RE: Radio Active
Dear Dave
I have had a neck since some twit ran into the back of my company van some years ago. Congrats to the brunette it's a big thing. Not the hat the degree. An hons eh , I 've seen that somewhere too. I believe though that it means more depending upon whom it is attached and what their actually like in action.Saul has what I believe is called a "hole in the heart". I had one of those when I was born and had a pioneerin op when I was 3. As you see I am unaffected and I will gladly show him my scar. I believe that they are more common than I knew and that indeed they do heal up on their own. I read an interesting study though that showed a link between that and migraine. They found that in many sufferers that they either had had or had an undiagnised / unhealed HITH. It's on the web somewhere.Still no Fridgemagnets cd sorry.I'm listening to the Stones at the moment they were great you know and some of the songs are very easy. I need some sheet music and a slide guitar now. Dino
Dear Dennis,
I believe I’ve never been to bed with an “Honourable” person before (I presume hons means honourable). I made her honourshipness two cups of coffee yesterday – I’m trying to get some birthday honours.
Yes, you’ve hit the HITH on the head there mate although looking it up on the wibbly wobbly and all I get from googly is Hole In the Head – some affliction of tropical fish I believe. We’ve got pamphlets though and the brunette is virtually a doctor now so she surely knows. I’ve been adjusting an old parking radar module I had from one of the robots, trying to tune it to be able to “see through” clothes, skin and gizzards – I can’t find out what frequency to use though and I can’t even “see through” one of the kittens (one has to test these things on animals first) but don’t tell the ALF neighbours! Maybe I should increase the voltage in the transducer. I thought in one experiment I had it tuned just right and it was seeing through the kitten but when I looked around the lead screen the little bugger had moved! I had to get the sellotape out.
Did I tell you there was a SAUL WHATSIT picking up a degree in Geography (human) at the Uni ceremony? What a coincidence.
I’ve got no Stones music – something I’ve regretted for a while now.
Ah! Good news – Mr Income Tax contacted me and has completed his investigation of my tax payments whilst at the factory and especially the money Rita took off my redundancy settlement – Mr Tax is going to refund me a thing for more than a FASAND QUID !! a windfall indeed! I’m over joyed! My thoughts immediately sidled over towards a roof extension for the shed but the brunette caught me looking at the lumber catalogue and says the children need clothes and shoes then food then banks then credit cards then car service then ink cartridges for the printer … my shed didn’t even feature on her list! Still, never mind, I expect she’s right – she normally is – I’ve seen a skip down the road with some interesting bits of wood in so I’ll take a trip out late this evening and see what I can get.
Now, I’ve got the tax question resolved so who do I speak to about the weight problem? Since they spat me out of the factory three years ago, I’ve gained an incredible 5 stones! It is clearly the factory’s fault so who can I talk to about it? Compensation? I’ve only put it all on as a result of being made redundant so surely it is Rita’s fault. I should maybe try writing to Paul & Gordon in the first instance.
Any road it’s a Saturday and I’ve some very important things to be doing.
D.
06 July 2006
Dear Dennis 6/7/2006
Dear D.
Coo what a life you lead.
I have a neck too and I can only look right.
What'sup with Saul then, kids eh?
I heard today that if you find bringing up kids expensive then you can send them to abroad. Apparently they can then be supported via oxfam for £15 per month.
I called my surgery today for a repeat prescription. They were closed but informed me that they were open from Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr............
I notice that the furniture shop near here sells Chester drawers. Do you have them down your way?
Dino
Dear Dennis,
We went to the brunettes University today for a crisp 'n' champagne buffet (I quickly trained Saul to refill my palm with crisps at regular intervals) and then we watched her ceremoniously receive her degree from some dusty old soak who was dressed in a red batman cape and a kind of overly large flat cap similar to the ones the goodies used to wear. Various other dusty professors watched from up on a high stage, in comfy chairs, in different coloured capes and hats and in different stages of consciousness. Charlie was at school so Saul and I cheered and clapped til our hands hurt as the brunette went up to collect her scroll but then the other parents around started whispering "ssshhhhh!!" so I got Saul down off the chair and we sat down. She is now a "BSc Hons." Actually you get Hons if you score above 40% and she got double that so maybe she should be BSc H2oNs? I'll send you a photee or two, I took loads. She had to give the cape and mortar board cap thing back as they can only hire them for a couple of hours. A shame really as it'd have been great on Halloween. They put on a cracking do' though and it was a great day indeed. AND there was a student picking up his degree and he was called SAUL, AND he had the same surname!
You've never said you had a neck before now - how long have you had it? We ought to get a driving job together then you can look right and I'll do the leftism bit. A milk round sounds good. I want to be a park keeper though and they don't drive around much - unless of course we get a motorised wheelbarrow and besom Â…
Little Saul has a "murmur". I can't hear it on his stethescope from his doctors outfit but the doc reckoned it was worth a trip to the hospital and a scan. The "specialist" says he has a small hole in some ventricle or wall thing or other but he could still be an Olympic athlete if he wanted (personnally I'd rather he was a famous rock star or a high powered business man). It is only a couple of millimetres and will probably close up as he grows. I asked for the measurement in Queens Imperial but he couldn't work it out and said we should come (go) back to see him in 3 years time - bloody hell my calendar doesn't go that far - it only goes to December this year! I hope they send me a reminder. The only special measure is that if he has to have a tooth out at the dentist we have to let the dentist know first and get him on a course of anti-biotics. He didn't say what to do if he got a tooth knocked out at the mother and toddler group on a Wednesday but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Arent kids weird - did you ever have an imaginary friend? Well I hear it's normal for some kids to have one and they grow out of it after a while. Well we met one of Sauls toddler mates on the way home the other day (his name is Fred) and he has an imaginary animal friend! Not only that, it is an imaginary antelope! Worse than that it is a herd of imaginary antelope! They caused havoc in the gardens on the way home from school I can tell you and his poor mum is at her wits end! I didn't know what to advise apart from jab him with a spoon or something. Poor girl.
Your doctors surgery must have the same telephone system as the Benefits Agency. "Hello I'd like to ask an awkward question please" "certainly sir" click bbbrrrrr ...
Chester drawers are a northern thing and not allowed down here.
D.
Coo what a life you lead.
I have a neck too and I can only look right.
What'sup with Saul then, kids eh?
I heard today that if you find bringing up kids expensive then you can send them to abroad. Apparently they can then be supported via oxfam for £15 per month.
I called my surgery today for a repeat prescription. They were closed but informed me that they were open from Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr............
I notice that the furniture shop near here sells Chester drawers. Do you have them down your way?
Dino
Dear Dennis,
We went to the brunettes University today for a crisp 'n' champagne buffet (I quickly trained Saul to refill my palm with crisps at regular intervals) and then we watched her ceremoniously receive her degree from some dusty old soak who was dressed in a red batman cape and a kind of overly large flat cap similar to the ones the goodies used to wear. Various other dusty professors watched from up on a high stage, in comfy chairs, in different coloured capes and hats and in different stages of consciousness. Charlie was at school so Saul and I cheered and clapped til our hands hurt as the brunette went up to collect her scroll but then the other parents around started whispering "ssshhhhh!!" so I got Saul down off the chair and we sat down. She is now a "BSc Hons." Actually you get Hons if you score above 40% and she got double that so maybe she should be BSc H2oNs? I'll send you a photee or two, I took loads. She had to give the cape and mortar board cap thing back as they can only hire them for a couple of hours. A shame really as it'd have been great on Halloween. They put on a cracking do' though and it was a great day indeed. AND there was a student picking up his degree and he was called SAUL, AND he had the same surname!
You've never said you had a neck before now - how long have you had it? We ought to get a driving job together then you can look right and I'll do the leftism bit. A milk round sounds good. I want to be a park keeper though and they don't drive around much - unless of course we get a motorised wheelbarrow and besom Â…
Little Saul has a "murmur". I can't hear it on his stethescope from his doctors outfit but the doc reckoned it was worth a trip to the hospital and a scan. The "specialist" says he has a small hole in some ventricle or wall thing or other but he could still be an Olympic athlete if he wanted (personnally I'd rather he was a famous rock star or a high powered business man). It is only a couple of millimetres and will probably close up as he grows. I asked for the measurement in Queens Imperial but he couldn't work it out and said we should come (go) back to see him in 3 years time - bloody hell my calendar doesn't go that far - it only goes to December this year! I hope they send me a reminder. The only special measure is that if he has to have a tooth out at the dentist we have to let the dentist know first and get him on a course of anti-biotics. He didn't say what to do if he got a tooth knocked out at the mother and toddler group on a Wednesday but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Arent kids weird - did you ever have an imaginary friend? Well I hear it's normal for some kids to have one and they grow out of it after a while. Well we met one of Sauls toddler mates on the way home the other day (his name is Fred) and he has an imaginary animal friend! Not only that, it is an imaginary antelope! Worse than that it is a herd of imaginary antelope! They caused havoc in the gardens on the way home from school I can tell you and his poor mum is at her wits end! I didn't know what to advise apart from jab him with a spoon or something. Poor girl.
Your doctors surgery must have the same telephone system as the Benefits Agency. "Hello I'd like to ask an awkward question please" "certainly sir" click bbbrrrrr ...
Chester drawers are a northern thing and not allowed down here.
D.
05 July 2006
Dear Dennis 5/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
One of my uncles died the other day and following a week of directional @mails we went to say a sad, very fond and quite lovely farewell last Friday at the crematorium some 300 miles away. It was a “good day for a buryin’” as they say in all the best westerns. The sun was shining bright over the Cornish moors and quite a crowd turned out to see him off and at the small, local pub after. He was indeed “one of the good ones” from this world, I have many splendid memories of him – he owned and ran a couple of pubs during my late teens and early twenties (always a good move if you want to be favourite uncle) and took one of my sisters and me to motorbike scrambling meets around the south a few times. He used to race stock cars in younger days and regaled me with stories of how during race weekends his girlfriend of the time used to cook up breakfasts on a camping stove in the tent behind the paddock of the various race tracks for some of the (now/used to be famous) drivers and how, after a particularly hard crash one weekend he was so bruised on his back and legs that he couldn’t walk and could only crawl around the house for a week or so afterward. How he used to over-bore and tune his engines so much that normal head gaskets wouldn’t fit and in order to get some material between the cylinders in the block for the head to bolt down onto, he used to lay lengths of cotton between them on the block before tightening down the head to act as a gasket. I went to a Halloween fancy dress at one of his pubs once and he judged me 1st and I won a bottle of wine – he was great. I never ever heard him say a bad word about anyone. His neighbours say that in recent years, every weekend was like a party at his cottage and he made a legendary “three week casserole”. Whiskey soaked Sundays every other weekend watching the Grand Prix with mates, seven cats, three dogs and three tortoises (they played the Fleetwood Mac track as the curtain closed). A plumber by trade in recent years and one of those people who you wouldn’t think amount to much maybe in themselves but whomever they touch, their lives were made so much better. He lived his life and had a great time doing it. He was happy and everyone he met was happy. The world has without doubt, lost a good one.
I shall endeavour to return for the scattering of the ashes and hopefully it won’t turn into a dust storm like the day we scattered my mum – see 28/7/2005 but if it does it’ll make the buffet afterwards more fun and I’ll have a laugh.
I met family I’d not seen for years – how they’ve changed! I was told how proud I must be of my brother as he is so rich and entertaining. And caught up with family gossip. One of my cousins “Strawberry” used to be known by some normal name – her father used to be a naval commander and very staid (probably an admiral or something by now) – she rebelled in a most spectacular fashion, changed her name to Strawberry Blue and married a damn yank!
D.
One of my uncles died the other day and following a week of directional @mails we went to say a sad, very fond and quite lovely farewell last Friday at the crematorium some 300 miles away. It was a “good day for a buryin’” as they say in all the best westerns. The sun was shining bright over the Cornish moors and quite a crowd turned out to see him off and at the small, local pub after. He was indeed “one of the good ones” from this world, I have many splendid memories of him – he owned and ran a couple of pubs during my late teens and early twenties (always a good move if you want to be favourite uncle) and took one of my sisters and me to motorbike scrambling meets around the south a few times. He used to race stock cars in younger days and regaled me with stories of how during race weekends his girlfriend of the time used to cook up breakfasts on a camping stove in the tent behind the paddock of the various race tracks for some of the (now/used to be famous) drivers and how, after a particularly hard crash one weekend he was so bruised on his back and legs that he couldn’t walk and could only crawl around the house for a week or so afterward. How he used to over-bore and tune his engines so much that normal head gaskets wouldn’t fit and in order to get some material between the cylinders in the block for the head to bolt down onto, he used to lay lengths of cotton between them on the block before tightening down the head to act as a gasket. I went to a Halloween fancy dress at one of his pubs once and he judged me 1st and I won a bottle of wine – he was great. I never ever heard him say a bad word about anyone. His neighbours say that in recent years, every weekend was like a party at his cottage and he made a legendary “three week casserole”. Whiskey soaked Sundays every other weekend watching the Grand Prix with mates, seven cats, three dogs and three tortoises (they played the Fleetwood Mac track as the curtain closed). A plumber by trade in recent years and one of those people who you wouldn’t think amount to much maybe in themselves but whomever they touch, their lives were made so much better. He lived his life and had a great time doing it. He was happy and everyone he met was happy. The world has without doubt, lost a good one.
I shall endeavour to return for the scattering of the ashes and hopefully it won’t turn into a dust storm like the day we scattered my mum – see 28/7/2005 but if it does it’ll make the buffet afterwards more fun and I’ll have a laugh.
I met family I’d not seen for years – how they’ve changed! I was told how proud I must be of my brother as he is so rich and entertaining. And caught up with family gossip. One of my cousins “Strawberry” used to be known by some normal name – her father used to be a naval commander and very staid (probably an admiral or something by now) – she rebelled in a most spectacular fashion, changed her name to Strawberry Blue and married a damn yank!
D.
01 July 2006
Dear Dennis 1/7/2006
Dear Dennis,
I hope you and your Carol are well and even more rested after your most recent holiday - where did you go this time? I trust the factory are well and all the little Ritas are performing to summarily directed SLA's and targets. Our adoptive cat gave birth to four kittens on Tuesday - on young Charles bed of all places and at 2:30 in the morning too! The cat seemed to be handling things alright by itself so I went back to bed and told Charlie to sleep on the floor but by that time the brunette had surfaced and the whole affair turned into a full-scale operation with towels, cups of coffee, oo's, ah's and a blow-by-blow account being called out around the house. It was very hard to maintain a sleep posture throughout but I think I pulled it off ok. I've been rewarded for my efforts by being tasked with cleaning out the old litter tray I threw on the compost heap last year after our original cats had finished with it. The cat (ah bless) refused point-blank to sleep with her new kittens in the fabulous timber miniature shed I'd fashioned and instead is firmly ensconced in a plastic clothes basket next to our bed where the brunette can keep a close eye and break my sleep pattern with regular 'leaning-over-the-bed' exercises to check on kittens safety. The first time she sprawled over the bed in her double layer winceyette I thought it was my cue, I was though, immediately and firmly rebuffed and made to feel like rather a cad actually. "How could [I] possibly think of things like that at a time like this".
D
I hope you and your Carol are well and even more rested after your most recent holiday - where did you go this time? I trust the factory are well and all the little Ritas are performing to summarily directed SLA's and targets. Our adoptive cat gave birth to four kittens on Tuesday - on young Charles bed of all places and at 2:30 in the morning too! The cat seemed to be handling things alright by itself so I went back to bed and told Charlie to sleep on the floor but by that time the brunette had surfaced and the whole affair turned into a full-scale operation with towels, cups of coffee, oo's, ah's and a blow-by-blow account being called out around the house. It was very hard to maintain a sleep posture throughout but I think I pulled it off ok. I've been rewarded for my efforts by being tasked with cleaning out the old litter tray I threw on the compost heap last year after our original cats had finished with it. The cat (ah bless) refused point-blank to sleep with her new kittens in the fabulous timber miniature shed I'd fashioned and instead is firmly ensconced in a plastic clothes basket next to our bed where the brunette can keep a close eye and break my sleep pattern with regular 'leaning-over-the-bed' exercises to check on kittens safety. The first time she sprawled over the bed in her double layer winceyette I thought it was my cue, I was though, immediately and firmly rebuffed and made to feel like rather a cad actually. "How could [I] possibly think of things like that at a time like this".
D
28 June 2006
Dear Dennis 28/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
I went to see my doc last Tuesday and yes, true to form he told me how he always has curry for breakfast and that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. After that he asked how I was. “Its my foot doc” I told him. “Do you do much exercise?” he enquired (I’ve been here before, many times) “What with this foot?” I countered. There, that silenced him. He then noticed I was struggling to do up my boot after he’d seen my foot from safely behind his desk. He checked out my neck and I told him I had been getting pins and needles in my right arm for a couple of months now. He twisted my head a couple of times and added “stiff neck” to the x-ray form then ushered me out of the door. I gathered my family and we made a trek to the hospital the very next day – Saul had to go for a scan thing but that’s another story – and me for my x-rays. Now, forgive me but I thought x-rays went through things like clothes. Why then did they (three young nurses and not a matron in sight) insist I get completely undressed, stand against some machine out of Dr Who, with one arm up in the air and the other straight down and holding a really heavy bottle? And why did they need all those “student nurses” (some of them were blokes so I didn’t believe a word of what they were telling me) to come in and “observe”? After several retakes and lots of kafuffle, I left the hospital with my family in tow, not feeling any better for my experience and everywhere I went in the hospital nurses stopped and stared, they even stopped whispering and looked at me when I walked into the cafeteria for a perky cup of No-Name Assam. I did ask if I could see the x-rays but the nurse told me they were to be analysed and then sent on to my doctor and that I should make an appointment to see him – oh if only she knew the trouble trying to make an appointment to see a doctor round our way. Well that is where I am this week – still hobbling, looking only to the left, slightly more radio active than last week, NOT eating curry for breakfast and awaiting an appointment to see my doctor.
All the best.
D.
I went to see my doc last Tuesday and yes, true to form he told me how he always has curry for breakfast and that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. After that he asked how I was. “Its my foot doc” I told him. “Do you do much exercise?” he enquired (I’ve been here before, many times) “What with this foot?” I countered. There, that silenced him. He then noticed I was struggling to do up my boot after he’d seen my foot from safely behind his desk. He checked out my neck and I told him I had been getting pins and needles in my right arm for a couple of months now. He twisted my head a couple of times and added “stiff neck” to the x-ray form then ushered me out of the door. I gathered my family and we made a trek to the hospital the very next day – Saul had to go for a scan thing but that’s another story – and me for my x-rays. Now, forgive me but I thought x-rays went through things like clothes. Why then did they (three young nurses and not a matron in sight) insist I get completely undressed, stand against some machine out of Dr Who, with one arm up in the air and the other straight down and holding a really heavy bottle? And why did they need all those “student nurses” (some of them were blokes so I didn’t believe a word of what they were telling me) to come in and “observe”? After several retakes and lots of kafuffle, I left the hospital with my family in tow, not feeling any better for my experience and everywhere I went in the hospital nurses stopped and stared, they even stopped whispering and looked at me when I walked into the cafeteria for a perky cup of No-Name Assam. I did ask if I could see the x-rays but the nurse told me they were to be analysed and then sent on to my doctor and that I should make an appointment to see him – oh if only she knew the trouble trying to make an appointment to see a doctor round our way. Well that is where I am this week – still hobbling, looking only to the left, slightly more radio active than last week, NOT eating curry for breakfast and awaiting an appointment to see my doctor.
All the best.
D.
23 June 2006
Dear Dennis 24/6/2006
Dear Dennis,
She’s probably been sacked by now and I sold the camera on @bay.
I don’t know but it’s been painful to walk for about two years now ever since young Charlie stomped my foot one day – I’ve got an appointment with Dr on Monday (unless he calls in sick again). Whenever I go to the Benefits Office they ask how I am and I always tell them my foot is giving me gip – they don’t really want to know how I am it’s just a ritual we go through. Blog = http://d6equj5.blogspot.com as a matter of interest have you ever done a search on “6equj5” on the inter wibbly thing?
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis] Sent: Friday, June 23, 2006 11:36
Subject: RE: The Giro
I think you should call the nice lady back. You never know you could get a picture of you holding a giro up to the camera while your suffering family gaze up at you in a pleading way. I 've seen such photos.
What's wrong with your foot?
How does one get to the blog then, I have a right to know if I'm being slandered and missing out on compo.
Dennis
She’s probably been sacked by now and I sold the camera on @bay.
I don’t know but it’s been painful to walk for about two years now ever since young Charlie stomped my foot one day – I’ve got an appointment with Dr on Monday (unless he calls in sick again). Whenever I go to the Benefits Office they ask how I am and I always tell them my foot is giving me gip – they don’t really want to know how I am it’s just a ritual we go through. Blog = http://d6equj5.blogspot.com as a matter of interest have you ever done a search on “6equj5” on the inter wibbly thing?
D.
-----Original Message-----From: dennis] Sent: Friday, June 23, 2006 11:36
Subject: RE: The Giro
I think you should call the nice lady back. You never know you could get a picture of you holding a giro up to the camera while your suffering family gaze up at you in a pleading way. I 've seen such photos.
What's wrong with your foot?
How does one get to the blog then, I have a right to know if I'm being slandered and missing out on compo.
Dennis
Dear Dennis 23/6/2006
Dear Dave
I think the world has gone mad!! Have you tried feigning drunkenness and speaking "foreign" you may get what you need just to get rid of you.
I should take all of your experiences to your MP's surgery.
Dino
Dear Dennis,
The world, except you and me, has indeed gone mad. I did send an account of my experiences with the Benefits Agency to my MP as you suggest and he replied! He wanted to know my full name, address and National Insurance number – these I duly emailed back and I’ve heard nothing since … I suspect being a Labour MP he just passed them to the Agency and told them to watch out as I could be someone who would ask awkward questions of switchboard operators. However last night the local “Evening Post” called my mobile – I didn’t pick it up because if your number isn’t known by my phone I refuse to answer – I need formal introductions first. I did a Wibbly Wobbly search for the number and it came back as belonging to: Judith Toner advertising@reading-epost.co.uk Maybe she wants to advertise on my Blog or at least get a mention. Job done Judith and you’re welcome. I wonder how they got my number though as I haven’t given it to them and didn’t give it to my MP. I didn’t want him pestering me asking which way he should vote in “der House”. Did you know that the distance between the Government and Opposition benches is designed to be two sword lengths apart so they can’t come to parries during a debate? If I was one of them I’d make myself an extra long sword or is there a regulation sword length and anyone caught with a longer one goes straight to the factory?
I shuffled into town yesterday with Saul and the brunette (my foot is giving me gip). A really helpful young lady at the Benefits House (a bit of a loose canon I suspect) looked up the number at the top of my giro and told me at which Post Office I could cash it. She suggested I didn’t put in for a "change request", as this would probably result in my claim being lost in the system forever and said it was probably best just to go to that Post Office and cash the thing. I was on a roll. I asked when I might get some benefits and she told me the whole sorry saga of “Canterbury”. Apparently they are just drafted in to make up the numbers and are not fully trained whereas the operatives in the branch offices know the whole system and can provide real help (except of course the telephone operators and receptionists). Also “Canterbury” regularly ship claims off to different parts of the country (including my experience with Nottingham) to “help the figures”. And she advised me to not ring “Canterbury” as each time I only get through to their menu system and voice thingy I am charged for the call even though I don’t actually get through to anyone – bloody hell I’ve been ringing them on and off about 100 times a day for the last three weeks – I just press ‘redial’ until I get a real person on the line. Bloody hell! I am going to email MP Laughing Clown about this one aswell. By this time the security guards were gathering and scowling firstly at my audacity to go in expecting some help and secondly at her for daring to give out accurate and sensible information. I expect her days are numbered at the Agency. I gathered up my family and hurriedly left the building.
The upshot of all that is that I did get my giro cashed and dutifully handed it over to the brunette. She then took me and Saul into the 99p shoppe to get Saul and Charlie a treat. Whatever happened to Pound Shoppes? It was all so much easier back then – maybe they should team up with the Busses as they must have too much change and the busses don’t give any out.
There was a report in our Local “News Paper” that the council were stopping the free service of exterminating rats and that their subjects would have to pay £25 a time in future. Another report says that the council are stopping weekly dust-bin collections and will only collect every other week instead – surely these two are connected and are a part of some crazy money making scheme for the councils Christmas Do? If they park a skip outside every residence they’d only have to collect rubbish once a month and would make a fortune from rat catching! They’d have to buy a load of skip lorries though and employ several thousand rat catchers. There is quite a furore going on about it all but what amazes me is that residents think that by complaining they can get the council to change it’s policy or get anything done – don’t they realise this is READING COUNCIL and the town belongs to them not the residents. Gone are the days when we used to turn our school caps around and pretend to be dust-bin-men because it was fun and they were seen as some sort of hero of the neighbourhood and our dad used to give them a Christmas box each year. These days they won’t collect all the rubbish we put out and they don’t even put the bin back in our garden after emptying it. It is a sad testament to town councils and progress.
The brunette has gone off for the day to show potential undergrads the work the Chemistry Department does, Saul is at crèche and Charlie is at school, the cats are fed and asleep, the stereo still only works on the left channel, telly aerial is slopping at 45 degrees to the roof so the signal is rubbish, washing up needs doing, bathroom floor tiles need finishing off, wind turbine needs tinkering with, window frames need painting, push bike needs oiling, solar panel needs cleaning, police helicopter is hovering overhead looking for some local ner-do-well. I think I’ll make a cup of tea and go sit in the shed for a while.
The blog message wasn’t spam but don’t worry as it’ll carry on without you.
D.
I think the world has gone mad!! Have you tried feigning drunkenness and speaking "foreign" you may get what you need just to get rid of you.
I should take all of your experiences to your MP's surgery.
Dino
Dear Dennis,
The world, except you and me, has indeed gone mad. I did send an account of my experiences with the Benefits Agency to my MP as you suggest and he replied! He wanted to know my full name, address and National Insurance number – these I duly emailed back and I’ve heard nothing since … I suspect being a Labour MP he just passed them to the Agency and told them to watch out as I could be someone who would ask awkward questions of switchboard operators. However last night the local “Evening Post” called my mobile – I didn’t pick it up because if your number isn’t known by my phone I refuse to answer – I need formal introductions first. I did a Wibbly Wobbly search for the number and it came back as belonging to: Judith Toner advertising@reading-epost.co.uk Maybe she wants to advertise on my Blog or at least get a mention. Job done Judith and you’re welcome. I wonder how they got my number though as I haven’t given it to them and didn’t give it to my MP. I didn’t want him pestering me asking which way he should vote in “der House”. Did you know that the distance between the Government and Opposition benches is designed to be two sword lengths apart so they can’t come to parries during a debate? If I was one of them I’d make myself an extra long sword or is there a regulation sword length and anyone caught with a longer one goes straight to the factory?
I shuffled into town yesterday with Saul and the brunette (my foot is giving me gip). A really helpful young lady at the Benefits House (a bit of a loose canon I suspect) looked up the number at the top of my giro and told me at which Post Office I could cash it. She suggested I didn’t put in for a "change request", as this would probably result in my claim being lost in the system forever and said it was probably best just to go to that Post Office and cash the thing. I was on a roll. I asked when I might get some benefits and she told me the whole sorry saga of “Canterbury”. Apparently they are just drafted in to make up the numbers and are not fully trained whereas the operatives in the branch offices know the whole system and can provide real help (except of course the telephone operators and receptionists). Also “Canterbury” regularly ship claims off to different parts of the country (including my experience with Nottingham) to “help the figures”. And she advised me to not ring “Canterbury” as each time I only get through to their menu system and voice thingy I am charged for the call even though I don’t actually get through to anyone – bloody hell I’ve been ringing them on and off about 100 times a day for the last three weeks – I just press ‘redial’ until I get a real person on the line. Bloody hell! I am going to email MP Laughing Clown about this one aswell. By this time the security guards were gathering and scowling firstly at my audacity to go in expecting some help and secondly at her for daring to give out accurate and sensible information. I expect her days are numbered at the Agency. I gathered up my family and hurriedly left the building.
The upshot of all that is that I did get my giro cashed and dutifully handed it over to the brunette. She then took me and Saul into the 99p shoppe to get Saul and Charlie a treat. Whatever happened to Pound Shoppes? It was all so much easier back then – maybe they should team up with the Busses as they must have too much change and the busses don’t give any out.
There was a report in our Local “News Paper” that the council were stopping the free service of exterminating rats and that their subjects would have to pay £25 a time in future. Another report says that the council are stopping weekly dust-bin collections and will only collect every other week instead – surely these two are connected and are a part of some crazy money making scheme for the councils Christmas Do? If they park a skip outside every residence they’d only have to collect rubbish once a month and would make a fortune from rat catching! They’d have to buy a load of skip lorries though and employ several thousand rat catchers. There is quite a furore going on about it all but what amazes me is that residents think that by complaining they can get the council to change it’s policy or get anything done – don’t they realise this is READING COUNCIL and the town belongs to them not the residents. Gone are the days when we used to turn our school caps around and pretend to be dust-bin-men because it was fun and they were seen as some sort of hero of the neighbourhood and our dad used to give them a Christmas box each year. These days they won’t collect all the rubbish we put out and they don’t even put the bin back in our garden after emptying it. It is a sad testament to town councils and progress.
The brunette has gone off for the day to show potential undergrads the work the Chemistry Department does, Saul is at crèche and Charlie is at school, the cats are fed and asleep, the stereo still only works on the left channel, telly aerial is slopping at 45 degrees to the roof so the signal is rubbish, washing up needs doing, bathroom floor tiles need finishing off, wind turbine needs tinkering with, window frames need painting, push bike needs oiling, solar panel needs cleaning, police helicopter is hovering overhead looking for some local ner-do-well. I think I’ll make a cup of tea and go sit in the shed for a while.
The blog message wasn’t spam but don’t worry as it’ll carry on without you.
D.
20 June 2006
Dear Dennis 20/6/2006
Impressed with your constructions. I should check that the house is well pegged down as it might just lift off. Have you thought that sprog may have been watching daddy's building skills an has constructed a well disguised lift platform from which to fire footerballs at your wind farm?
I have two brothers neither called Barbera.
Dennis
Dear Dennis,
You could be right - I'll check the bamboo clump for iron fret-work and pulleys. My sister is called Beverley and she is not my brother who is also not called Albert.
I was startlingly awakened this morning by young Saul jumping on my bladder shouting "Daddy I need a wee wee!" Ah the joys of parenthood at it's best. I followed him down stairs and out the back door to the lavvy. Arty from next door was already installed on his throne and was warming the air from his side. "Morning Art" I called while settling Saul on the seat. "yep mornin' Davey lad" "I've got young Saul with me" I told him before he started going on about the Saphist dog next door the other side. Have you got the picture? Can you see me in your mind there Dennis?
A deep breath was summoned and I went to sign-on this afternoon. A ponytailed er ... security badged, person stopped me in my tracks and said "you can't go up there wiv no appointment know what I mean?" as I tried to go through the door as usual, to the first floor. I had the brunette with me so I had my polite but sarcastic hat on. "It's the management" he said, taking the line straight from a Monty Python sketch without so much as a by-your-leave (nor a smile). I turned and looked at the brunette "you're not Management are you darling?" she raised her eyes skyward then I confirmed it to Mr Security "no, we're not management". The security person looked puzzled for a moment but then came back with "only one can go upstairs". The brunette looked at me and said "go on, you go up and I'll wait" but I cut her off, leaned toward him and asked in my loudest whisper "which one of us do you want to go upstairs?" the brunette went and stood and examined a display of leaflets and I waved my ES40JP at the security person, thanked him for his help and slipped through the door and up the stairs. It was obviously being mulled over and sank in to his brain a few seconds later as he called up the stairs as I neared the top "OK". They are so funny, I love going there every second Tuesday.
Catch ya soon eh?
D
I have two brothers neither called Barbera.
Dennis
Dear Dennis,
You could be right - I'll check the bamboo clump for iron fret-work and pulleys. My sister is called Beverley and she is not my brother who is also not called Albert.
I was startlingly awakened this morning by young Saul jumping on my bladder shouting "Daddy I need a wee wee!" Ah the joys of parenthood at it's best. I followed him down stairs and out the back door to the lavvy. Arty from next door was already installed on his throne and was warming the air from his side. "Morning Art" I called while settling Saul on the seat. "yep mornin' Davey lad" "I've got young Saul with me" I told him before he started going on about the Saphist dog next door the other side. Have you got the picture? Can you see me in your mind there Dennis?
A deep breath was summoned and I went to sign-on this afternoon. A ponytailed er ... security badged, person stopped me in my tracks and said "you can't go up there wiv no appointment know what I mean?" as I tried to go through the door as usual, to the first floor. I had the brunette with me so I had my polite but sarcastic hat on. "It's the management" he said, taking the line straight from a Monty Python sketch without so much as a by-your-leave (nor a smile). I turned and looked at the brunette "you're not Management are you darling?" she raised her eyes skyward then I confirmed it to Mr Security "no, we're not management". The security person looked puzzled for a moment but then came back with "only one can go upstairs". The brunette looked at me and said "go on, you go up and I'll wait" but I cut her off, leaned toward him and asked in my loudest whisper "which one of us do you want to go upstairs?" the brunette went and stood and examined a display of leaflets and I waved my ES40JP at the security person, thanked him for his help and slipped through the door and up the stairs. It was obviously being mulled over and sank in to his brain a few seconds later as he called up the stairs as I neared the top "OK". They are so funny, I love going there every second Tuesday.
Catch ya soon eh?
D
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