Yule be sorry...
So, up at 7 to start preparing for Christmas fun. I love Christmas, possibly because I spen
d the rest of the year as a curmudgeonly old scrooge-like figure I really do enjoy the whole Christmas experience, (obviously I'm referring to the eating, drinking, presents, tinsel and trees side of the celebration, which our ancestors enjoyed before all this religious stuff got dragged in. We had 18 for the Crimble Feast, and all went pretty well, starting with the overnight soaking of the enormous turkey in a spicy brine bath a' la Nigella Lawson (That's the turkey in the bath, not Nigella, sadly). With about half an hour to go and only final touches to the sauces, stir frying of sprouts, and the carving of bird and gammon to go, both sinks in the kitchen refused to drain. Luckily i was so mellow from a steady stream of 7 hours of bucks fizz consumption that I managed not to panic but it did add a certain frisson to delivering the Yuletide feast to our guests when three of them were immersed in the fetid outflow under the kitchen cupboards. Sincere thanks to my little brother crissyfoffer, for his culinary assistance and to Robbie, Ian, Mrs Stuffy and Graham for their plumbing and problem solving skills, and to all our lovely guests for making it a really fun Christmas dinner.
Anniversaries, sweet memories
Mrs Stuffy did herself proud with my anniversary present. For those of you who care about such things the traditional gift for 6 years of wedded bliss is wood and/or sugar. I was pretty pleased with the hand-carved wooden heart I'd procured but was soundly beaten by the expert shopper who trumped me with a wooden box of nostalgic confectionary from www.aquarterof.co.uk. Inevitably she was unable to resist her own personal candy demons so although we quickly demolished my collection of sherbert fountains, space dust and flying saucers we've made little real headway with the monster jar of liquorice temptation. Methinks it's time to set about planning the new year detox...
Retail Lessons, for both salesman and their victims...
Polyester and pimples do not a salesman make
Matt, (in Comet) it is not acceptable to say, when asked for information to support a buying decision "you probably know as much about this as I do" No Matt! No! the reason Comet invested in that stunningly attractive polyester suit and gorgeous orange shirt, is to identify you to all as a source of good advice and informed opinion, thus enabling us poor shoppees to shower your organisation with revenues. We should not have to suggest that you go and get a grown-up to help you, although I understood your reluctance once the malodorous refugee from the dandruff mines did appear and read out what we had already discovered written on each of the boxes. (We, of course, managed this feat without moving our lips or using our fingers).
It's good to talk, especially to the people who generate your pay
An open letter to Marcus, Dawn and Phil at Dextra Mobile Phone sales.
It is not good customer service to unilaterally cancel a customer order (because of your own internal stock control issues) and then fail to tell him/her about it. If any of you had managed to overcome the barriers of your low intelligence and lack of social skills for long enough to procreate you'd understand that no parent wants to find out 2 weeks before Xmas that the arrival of a much anticipated present for a dear offspring is not going to happen. It is rubbing seasonal salt into the festive wound to make us pay for the telephone call, the on-hold muzac and the crescendo of hand-offs before painfully eliciting the truth from the ironically named 'customer service team'.
PS Phil, I managed not to let it show but I was vastly amused that you thought I might wish to place another order with your incompetent and insulting enterprise.
Understand the Signs
0% interest in DFS means a really good deal on a nice sofa.
0% interest in Dixons means they really, really are not interested.
Light at the end of the tunnel
I had to order some special floodlight bulbs from a company called the Light Bulb Company , they have a stock of thousands of different specialist bulbs, the switchboard operator was knowledgeable enough to help me identify the bulbs I needed before putting me through to sales, who were also polite, informed and helpful. They despatched the bulbs the following day and thanks to an over-enthusiastic courier company, a box full of broken glass was rejected a day later. "No problem" said the folk at the light bulb company, "we're sending a duplicate order out now and we're really sorry". I would commend these folk to anyone as a great example of 'giving a damn'. Sadly they don't do xmas tree lights.
A Criminal Christmas Crisis.
On the subject of Xmas lights, I'd advise you, my loyal readership, to avoid buying a pack of Xmas lights from Heals and then atempting to enter House of Fraser, it appears that the coiled electrical cable replicates the functionality of a House of Fraser security tag. It's a novel experience to be apprehended on suspicion of bringing un-stolen goods into a store. The security staff were not up for a discussion around this surrealist approach to shoplifting, it appears to be a common problem at this festive time, and presumably distracts them from their primary role of chatting to the girls on the perfume counter.
I've not been well..... don't ask
d the rest of the year as a curmudgeonly old scrooge-like figure I really do enjoy the whole Christmas experience, (obviously I'm referring to the eating, drinking, presents, tinsel and trees side of the celebration, which our ancestors enjoyed before all this religious stuff got dragged in. We had 18 for the Crimble Feast, and all went pretty well, starting with the overnight soaking of the enormous turkey in a spicy brine bath a' la Nigella Lawson (That's the turkey in the bath, not Nigella, sadly). With about half an hour to go and only final touches to the sauces, stir frying of sprouts, and the carving of bird and gammon to go, both sinks in the kitchen refused to drain. Luckily i was so mellow from a steady stream of 7 hours of bucks fizz consumption that I managed not to panic but it did add a certain frisson to delivering the Yuletide feast to our guests when three of them were immersed in the fetid outflow under the kitchen cupboards. Sincere thanks to my little brother crissyfoffer, for his culinary assistance and to Robbie, Ian, Mrs Stuffy and Graham for their plumbing and problem solving skills, and to all our lovely guests for making it a really fun Christmas dinner.
