Bargain

Went to visit Nanny and Shouty Grandad this afternoon. Recently they had a small porch and new front door added to their house. The original door is still in situ, it provides good insulation and security. However, when they are tucked up in the front room watching the telly, they can't hear the door knocker.
I knocked and knocked and knocked, no answer. In the end I had to phone them to get them to come open the door. If they don't get a door bell fitted to the external door, I have threatened to poke a stick through the letterbox and press the old doorbell at odd times in the morning.

When I finally got inside, Shouty Grandad relayed his tale of a bargain - he rode the bus twelve miles to the nearest Aldi for their cheap coffee offer. He bought a couple of packets and was very pleased with himself....until he got home and read the packet - it is ground coffee. Dad doesn't own a percolator or cafeterie.

In other news, he is trying to cure a cough he has had for ages, he has this idea that you need to have moisture in centrally heated homes and has always had Betterware water reservoirs hung on the radiators. He felt he needed more moisture while he slept so, while mum was out shopping, he filled a bowl of water with the intention of placing it out of the way on top of the wardrobe. They have 2 wardrobes  with a dressing table in between, he reached up to place the bowl centrally above the dressing table, as he pushed it to the back, near the wall, he found out the joining part of the top of the unit didn't go all the way to the back. As he pushed the bowl back, it tipped and emptied all down the back of the wardrobe. While he was drying the carpet under the wardrobe with the hairdryer, he thought he'd got away with telling anyone about his adventure but luckily for us Nanny arrived home just in time to find Shouty Grandad kneeling on the bedroom floor blow drying the carpet. Perfect.

You can take the girl out of Colney...

Yesterday Mr Fink whisked me off to a wonderful warehouse full of junk. It was officially a 'Vintage Emporium' but looked like an old auction house/warehouse/Aladdin's cave.
We wandered round, recognising various artefacts from our youth and one or two from the antiques roadshow.
The warehouse is split up into 20/30 booths where different vendors show off their wares.
As i was wandering round, i happened across a 9 year old local girl (I could tell she was local by her posh accent and the way she and her mum were behaving!) riding a vintage tricycle up and down the gangway. "Jocasta, please put that away." said the mum (all pashmina and cashmere'd up against the weather).
"mummy, why are you so grumpy...you never let me have fun..I'm bored...when are we going home...why are you grumpy...mummy....mummy....speak to me mummy."
Well, we've all been in those situations and usually good taste, Englishness and the fear of reprisal prevents our inner mind from speaking out. Not me. As the girl continued her whining insistence, i could stand it no longer.
I spoke out in a loud clear voice, which echoed throughout the building.
"CHILD. GIVE IT A REST!"
As the child and mum walked away, I heard mum say, "Well, there's no need to be cross with me."
I eventually found Mr Fink and over a wonderful cup of tea I asked if he heard me chastise the girl. he said,
"I thought to myself, 'that sounds like Mrs Fink'!"

Shouty Grandad V Sainsburys, who would you put your money on?

Shouty Grandad has been at it again. Today we had a gathering of my mum (Nanny), my dad (Shouty Grandad), Astral (my mother in law) and The Silver Surfer (my father in law). We had lovely food (made by Mr Fink) and listened to yarns and tales of Shouty Grandad's adventures.

He told us a few of his classics, The Keys From the Van, Selling Paint to people from Luton and the Money in the Shoe ones to name a few. I mentioned that I wouldn't be surprised if the local shops had his picture up next to the ASBO kids with a warning note next to it saying, "trouble". Then he said with indignation, "I went in Sainsburys the other day and they wouldn't even slice my bread". Cue hilarity all round. Apparently, he went to the supermarket to buy his usual 1000g uncut loaf which he always gets them to slice for him. This time however, when he offered it up to the chap on the bread slicer, the chap declined to cut it. The reason? the bread was too big!

Well, Shouty Grandad went into his, "I've been coming here for 20 years and the bread has always fitted before" speech, the manager was called and between them they managed to get the bread sliced. The chap put the bread in a bag and handed it to Shouty Grandad. Shouty Grandad looked at the bread, "Where's the end gone?" Apparently the tiny sliver from the end crust had fallen off the loaf and into the machine, from whence it could not be retrieved.
"I can't buy this bread, it's underweight so IT'S ILLEGAL!!" was Shouty Grandad's parting shot.

I wonder if Sainsbury's have a customer hit list?

Shouty Grandad back on form

Shouty Grandad has been out of sorts recently, he's been suffering from some sort of chest infection which has affected his breathing and kept him indoors out of the cold wind for a few weeks. He is nearly back to 'normal' now and has been let loose on the streets again.

On Thursday he and Nanny went into town for some shopping, there was a bitter wind blowing and the queue for the bus grew and grew. They and several other OAPs waited over an hour for the bus, which must have been removed from service or broken down. In the end Grandad said to the other queueees, "We should hijack the next bus and make it go where we want." The OAPs nodded in solidarity. The teenagers giggled at the thought of an OAP take over.

A bus hove into view, Grandad stepped up to the plate, the bus stopped, Grandad got on. The teenagers were howling by this time. Grandad explained to the bus driver that he and his fellow TOGs were frozen, their bus had not come and that he, the bus driver, should take them all home.

Unfortunately for Shouty Grandad his demands were not met. The bus driver was Polish and had no idea what he was going on about! Poor Shouty Grandad.

He's off to Australia for 4 weeks starting next month. 'Hello' international incident!

I Did It!

I Did It. I did the Christmas food shop. In one morning, this no tears, drama or screaming. I did have a little moral support and chauffeuring from Bambi - I did a swap, I got him and Mrs Glum looked after Little Fink!

Little Fink made a lovely cake for Christmas Eve tea when nanny and Shouty Grandad come over ready for the big day!

We've just got a few cards and presents to deliver (on behalf of F.C. himself) and it's all ready.

BRING IT ON!

I Don't Believe It!

Shouty Grandad like to get value for money. He scours the supermarkets for the best deals. For instance, he knows that the 3 main supermarkets take it in turns to have a special offer on coffee. He is quite happy to travel to all 3 to find out who has the best deal that week. The other day he was complaining about how the teabag company had cheated him. He bought a box of teabags and on it it had a special offer, "50% extra free". The box was the 240 teabag size. He had tipped out the bags and counted them. "There's 240 teabags in there, it's disgraceful how they can lie on the packaging, there's not an extra 50% in there." It took a little while to explain to him that he had paid for 160 teabags and they had put an extra 50% of those into the package, obviously they had to use a bigger box BECAUSE YOU CANT FIT 240 TEABAGS IN A BOX MADE FOR 160!!!

We visited him and Nanny today and I spotted his slippers (see picture above). "Good god, dad, what's happened to your slippers?" I asked. He went on to explain, he had got all the slippers he had in circulation, got the best 2 to make a pair and thrown the rest out. THESE WERE THE BEST 2? I thought he had found them in the street! ~Imagine what the others must have looked like!

I'll hex the lot of 'em

Right an update.

Filofax - lost, now found

Christmas cards - half done

Parcel, delivered, disappeared, denied, returned to sender, re posted - watch this space

Credit card - cloned, stopped by bank.

I had a phone call last night from a polite lady purporting to be from my bank's fraud department. She wanted to talk to me about my credit card which ends in 1234.

She wanted to ask me some security questions to make sure I was the card holder. (she phoned me remember) I confirmed my name, address and date of birth (all readily available on the internet). She asked me what the current limit on my overdraft was, I told her I wasn't going to tell her that as I had no proof of who she was. She assured me she was genuine, "I'm C.... and I'm here in Peterborough." I had the devil in me and was out to prove a point, "Yes, and my name is Mickey Mouse and I'm sitting in an igloo at the North Pole. Do you see my point?"

She suggested I phone in on a number she would give me. "But that could just be your friend sitting in the room next door. I know, you tell me what my mother's maiden name is, the Bank knows that." She didn't have access to that information. She suggested I phone the number on the back of my card. Success. i thanked her and rang the number.

Oh how I bet she laughed.

I was transferred at least 6 times....push 1 now....push 4 now...push 3 now, it was like having a baby. I got through to a human who put me through to the fraud department. It rang and rang and rang. I can see them all now, probably 4 in the room, all laughing and pointing at the phone saying, "That will teach you to be smart with us!" anyway they eventually answered the phone and the upshot is, my credit card details have been copied. They have stopped the card, refunded the erroneous amounts and will send me a new card. (I thanked them profusely.)

So, in the run up to Christmas, the busiest 2 weeks of the shopping year, when more money changes hands than at any other time - how long till my new card comes? 10-14 days. argh.

How will it be sent? ROYAL MAIL. NNNNNNNNNNNNNoooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Never to be seen again no doubt. Goodbye cruel world.

On a happier note - Little Fink has had a story published, achieved her yellow belt at Ju-Jitsu and has just spent the 40 minutes before bed making a dodecahedron calendar. Don't ask!

Where the heck is it then?

It's Christmas. I've been doing my shopping online as i can't bear going to the shops. I bought a gift from Ebay for Little Fink. I waited a week and the item had not arrived. The seller had sent me an email to say he sent it on the 23rd Nov and the number to track the delivery is AB123456123456AB. HOORAY. What a superstar, how sensible a chap to track the delivery.

I typed the reference number in the Royal Mail tracker, "We attempted to deliver your item on 26th Nov. A 'While you were out' note was put through your door, please collect from your depot or arrange redelivery via the internet." note? what note?

I jumped on the internet and arranged for the item to be delivered to my local Post Office. I received the email confirming the redelivery request and was ready to pick up parcel on Dec 2 (my birthday).

I went to the local Post Office, "Hello, do you have a parcel for me?" Lady, "No, he hasn't been yet." Me, "Oh, what time does he come?" Her, ~"Anytime, can be anytime." Me - "Thank you, I'll come back tomorrow."

I left it a few days, went back. No parcel. yesterday (7th Dec) I went to the main depot, No parcel, no indication that the parcel had ever been in the depot, it is a ghost parcel. Also checked at the local Post Office. nope, nada.

I've emailed the seller, he is sympathetic to my plight. has sent me a scan of the receipt of postage and the tracking document.

I only hope they have sent it back to him and he will send it on eventually.

My favourite part of the story is the response I got from Customer Services for Royal mail. they don't publish a phone number so you can phone the depot and see if your parcel is there, you have to drive there and fight for the 3 (yes 3) parking spaces to get in to see if your parcel is there. The Customer Care lady took the details, said she will phone the depot, get them to investigate, they will call her and she (or someone from the Customer Care team) will call me back. "ooh lovely, thank you for being so helpful," says I, "What time do you think you'll call back?". " Oh about Friday."

Is it me?

I invented 'Uniform Rage' this week

How cool is that picture?

This week was the worst week in the calendar. Time to get the school uniform. Occasionally in busy supermarkets I freak out a little and have to leave. Historically this trip is the worst. Last year I left all the clothes at the checkout, ran out of the shop (with Little Fink) and had to phone Mr Fink to calm me down!

Little Fink and I girded our loins and set out to our local hypermarket with M&S attached and headed for the uniform aisle. I had my list, Little Fink was in a good mood, we picked out all the stuff she needed, tried it on, picked the correct sizes, tried that all on again. After about 40 minutes we had everything we needed and got to the checkout. I'm starting to feel a little hemmed in by this time, losing my patience too. Little Fink was doing the "Isle of Sheppey - I need the toilet dance" but I couldn't take her to the loo as it was upstairs. I was second in the queue with 2 assistants serving, the outlook was bright.

Then, the female customer at the till said, "Do you have any of those nice red t-shirts, they wash so well." The assistant abandoned her post and went off with the customer to find the t-shirts.

That did me.

In the middle of M&S, I threw my head back, pointed my chin to the ceiling and groaned, "OH MY GOD!" I looked round at the other people in the queue who were looking at me as if I had grown 2 heads or something and I said, "Don't look at me like that, It's what you are all thinking too." The assistant arrived back, the queue moved along and all was calm.

I thought i was quite good not to go on the rampage with a coat hangar or two!

Gadget boy stikes again...

I'm off to bed soon. "why so early?" I hear you cry? Well, Mr Fink has just been reinfected with Gadget-itis and upgraded, not only the TV but the DVD too. So unless I want to sit and watch him plug cables in, I'm off to bed. Can anyone tell me why is it, new tellys have to be highly polished black plastic - incorporating a high static charge which acts as a dust magnet? I wipe that flippin telly every day and as I wipe it, the dust zings back in the path where the cloth has just been. Any suggestions on dust bustin' the TV would be greatly welcomed. (Also, when the sunlight hits the TV from the window opposite, the screen is matt and dos not reflect the sun, but the 'frame' of gloss plastic reflects it like a mirror and you end up with retina burn in the shape of a rectangle. Little Fink has to wear a welders mask to watch Hannah Montana some afternoons!)

I love Mr Fink when he is playing with his gadgets. He gets it all out of the box, gets all the PCM, HGV, HDCM cables (or whatever they are called), plugs etc. puts it all together like a complex air-fix kit, then sits back on his heels, TA DA..... there is no sound.

"Bugger," says Mr Fink, "I'll have to read the instructions now!"

Hot lunch anyone?

How groovy it this idea. A flask that you put your dinner in, microwave to get it good and hot, put the lid on, take to work and eat a couple of hours later. Brilliant. I want one, I got one.

I picked Little Fink up from school, one of the mums, whom I think of as The Oracle - like in The Matrix (she is the font of all knowledge and knows all the gossip - if it's happened in our town, she has the inside story), The Oracle asked me how my 'healthy eating/diet' was going.

So I told her about my super new lunching gadget, come lunchtime I was pretty hungry and looking forward to testing how warm the food had stayed. Salami pasta with ratatouie. Yum.

I couldn't get the lid off. I didn't have lunch, the diet is going fine!

One of my colleagues came into the office to ask what the banging noise was. It was me trying to break the vacuum seal on the tub. No hot lunch for me!

No luck. Mr Fink (via email - he likes to be alerted to my misfortunes, it brightens his dreary days) helpfully suggested I return it for a refund. I aksed, "What with my lunch still inside?"

So, it sits on the kitchen side, waiting for big strong Mr Fink to come home and release my lunch.

Sat Nav Mystery Tour

Mr Fink knows how to show a girl a good time. Imagine if you will, it's Saturday night, 6.30pm, Little Fink has gone to Nannies for the night, we have a couple of quid in our pockets and the world is our oyster - what would a young(ish) couple go and do?

"Let's got to Ikea and look at shoe cupboards" he said. "O.K." I said.

What a team. We set off for the Milton Keynes branch. I typed, "IKEA" into the Sat Nav and waited.......not known, although it did come up with "RIDEABIKEAWAY, Coventry". As I was on the phone to Mrs Glum asking for directions, MR Fink turned the corner and HEY PRESTO, there it was. It was 5 to 7.

We assumed it would be open til 8 or 10pm. Nope, 7.30pm. Dagnabbit. We ran round that shop until we found the shoe cupboards, found the one we liked and came away without buying anything.

The trip home was much more exiting, the Sat Nav took us all through residential streets, little villages, at one point we were on a new road and the Sat Nav showed us wombling across a field?? We did however see the Whipsnade lion all lit up! I didn't know it had lights.

Boy, do we know how to have fun!

Nannie wants to go somewhere to play with her metal detector during half term.
Any suggestions on a postcard to the usual address, and none of your "Over the hills and far away" type gags, OK?

Christmas is a comin'

Yes, it's come round again. I can't believe it, Mr Fink is bullying me into getting Christmas cards and wrapping paper (not to mention sending me emails which helpfully point out which gadgets he has found that interest him!). I'm still waiting for that Indian Summer we were promised.

Anyway, the Fink family are not very good at proper shopping - where you sharpen up your elbows and take your chances in the crowds. I end up with shopper-rage in the first 10 minutes and just want to lie down in the shop and have a screaming ab-dab like a 3 year old! Fink shopping involves, the computer, the card and the postman! I love it.

The shopping is nearly done and the packages are arriving, we were starting to run out of places to put them, so Mr Fink says. "I know, I'll put them in a washing basket under our bed".

This in itself seems, to the untrained eye, like a good idea. However the fatal flaw of the plan was when he said to Little Fink, "What ever you do, don't look under our bed."

Even Little Fink, as young as she is said, "Fancy telling a kid not to look under the bed at this time of year". She's a canny one!