Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Tuesday, 11 November 2014
No such thing as bad weather
I had a brilliant day yesterday. After weeks and weeks of waiting followed by the drastic cock-up due to my inability to read a tape-measure, I picked up the correct item, prepared it and installed it - all in one day.
This simple thing has finally unlocked a couple of other ways of enabling me to earn a living, and I have just enough time to finish one more job before the 'C' word begins (no, not that one unless I make another wrong measurement) and we all get frozen in for at least a month - I hope.
I almost do not care if there are power-cuts - actually, yes I do. It is difficult to warm yourself over a candle, particularly an artificial one, and I really do need to watch 'It's A Wonderful Life' - again.
Jack@ has just posted a very 'C' word themed piece, and the rest of you are split down the middle as to how you reacted. This will be the first Christmas for 22 years that we will not have the kids round, partly because they have grown up, and partly because their mother has sworn to have the entire Christmas off because of the usual rigmarole of working flat-out until 5.30 on the Eve, then going home to work her arse off in the kitchen as the rest of the family have bitter and heated arguments next door.
I think she made her mind up at around 11.00 pm last year, but I bet she unmakes it at around 5.30 on this one.
The trouble is that her parents were too cool to celebrate Christmas, so life in this household was like living under Cromwell's reign for the whole of her childhood - or so she would have you believe. She made up for it - in a very big way. I caught her buying presents in Bicester Village, so I think she already has.
I bought myself a present already - a pair of these fake fur-lined snow boots above. £23 delivered from eBay, size 12.
You know how people become vary wary of dogs after they get bitten by one? Well I feel the same way about Timberland foot-ware. I was frost-bitten by them. Every time I see an advert for Timberland I have to suppress the urge to violently destroy it.
When I went to minus 40 degree Canada (celsius), I took with me a very expensive pair of Timberland boots which purported to be the warmest ones on the market. I stepped outside the warm hotel and into the frozen, snowy wasteland of mid-winter Quebec, and within ten minutes I could not feel my feet. I had to go back into the hotel.
Some kind soul went to a nearby hardware shop and bought me some lace-up rubber boots with a fake fur lining - for $20. My feet were like two bits of freshly-made, size 12 toast. Sadly, they wanted these boots back when I left, and you cannot buy them in England.
When I told H.I. of my intention of getting a pair of the above, she asked, "Are they ugly?", to which I replied, "Yes. Very."
"Oh no," she groaned. She would rather I lost all my toes than walk out in a pair of ugly shoes - and she says she is no fashion-victim.