I have some new friends. They write to me every day and have invited me over to see them. They're going to give me money not just once but every fortnight until my head gets better. My new friends are from the DWP, the Dept. of Work & Pensions for those who haven't had to get any payback on their tax and NI yet. I seem to be getting more than my money's worth although most of the letters have been absolutely pointless. Like the one telling me that they're very pleased to be able to offer me incapable benefit but sadly would have to tax me on the princely sum they've awarded me and have worked out the tax deductable will be £0.00. Yesterday they thanked me for sending in my sick note at the beginning of May (which is valid to mid-June). However, as it runs out on 13 April(!) please will I remember to renew it prior to then so that my (taxed) benefit will not be affected. And today they sent a letter inviting me in to see them so that they can assess me for a suitable job as I will need to work when my head gets better. We did tell them I had a job but the rules state that they have to see me about finding me a job when my head gets better. But I have a job waiting for me when my head gets better. Sorry, the rules state that we have to see you to assess you for a job............talk about going round in circles.
It's now 5 days since the Great Flood. There are still many wet patches. Steve and the very contrite plumber have installed big heaters and an industrial dehumidifier; we've been assured there'll be no long-term damage but I've yet to be convinced.We put a dampener on the decorators, too, who seem to be taking an inordinately long time and are getting very confused with where we want our 18 colours, despite it being laid out in black and white. Ah - that's where the confusion's arisen - we printed the instructions in black and white. Matt and Gloss have so far managed to paint the wrong wall a feature colour in the smaller bedroom despite it being clearly marked on the plan, try to pass off custard yellow for ivory in the dining room and Nowhere, purchase an eggshell called Contemplation instead of Complexion thus painting all the woodwork in the middle bedroom completely the wrong colour, and spend a lot of time reading The Sun. Judging by the amount of fag ends we've found in the main bedroom it seems they've been trying to quick dry the paint with their Players No. 6. What is absolutely unforgiveable, though, is their penchant for using the brand new loos in Boosh Barn and NOT FLUSHING THEM. It is soooo nauseating. Judging by the colour of the residual liquid it looks like they're trying to introduce colour number 19. We have complained - vigorously - so we'll see what tomorrow brings.
We've also had frustrating times with IKEA, too tiresome to go into detail now. Suffice to say we've been to three different IKEAs in less than a week (good job they're open until midnight) and had hourly telephone conversations with their call centre. More new friends!
And I can't even bring myself to mention today's episode with British Gas.
Took solace in my happy place and spent a reclusive couple of hours weeding through the carrots, beetroot, spring onions and spinach whilst admiring the now-flowering peas. Fiona, meanwhile, has spent the day working in the home office, battling against Terry Junior on his steam roller, whose vibrations threatened to bring the entire farm and its buildings down.
1 comment:
When we had a new cold water tank we found two empty beer bottles in the old one! (Might explain a few things if they'd been thrown in full.)
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