Talking turkey

My grandson would like a turkey for Christmas. As a pet. Yes, really. Turkeys, he says, make excellent pets (to me, they are hideously unattractive, and in any case, I've been scarred for life after being chased by one when I was about five).

But there would be one advantage. His family could have in the rear window of their car a sign saying: "A turkey is for life. Not just for Christmas". Makes it almost worthwhile. Perhaps I'll get one (they have to be cheaper to keep than a horse....).

Eat your heart out, John Lewis

Aaaaah!

Printer rage

We cannot get new toner (ink, I suppose) for our printer. I have had this kind of day, on the phone:

If you want this press 1, that press 2, the other, press ......blah blah blah ....may be  recorded for training purposes ... blah ...blah...blah....horrible tune....long wait....your call is important to us blah...blah...blah....brief fragment of real human voice ....horrible tune... would you like to complete survey after this (NO!)...blah...blah....never neard of that printer.... blah blah...blah....

It would seem that our two year old printer doesn't exist any more, and even if it did, the toner is almost as expensive as a new printer. Although it doesn't exist, the printer sits on my desk looking smug and...existing. It has a square, boxy little face. I want to punch it in its gaping maw. How come one can feel such hatred for an inanimate object?

Including last night, the whole wretched business has taken me several hours, and I have got precisely nowhere.

Reader, we are getting a new printer. I'm off now to take a hammer to the old one. The thought makes me feel cheerful for the first time today  😆

The regrets of an Internet shopper

Notes to self:

Because you like the blue one, and it fits, and it was a bargain, it doesn't necessarily mean you will like the pink one. Plus, you hate pink. Remember?

When you've got the garment out of the packaging, and tried it on, ask yourself this simple question: would I buy this if I were in a changing room and didn't have to pack it up and trudge off to the post office if I didn't like it? If the answer to this is no, then SEND IT BACK. Now. The regret you feel now will be as nothing compared to how you will feel six months down the line, when the damned thing is still sitting unworn in your wardrobe.

The same applies to gifts. The recipient won't appreciate that you spent hours choosing that Thing online if they - and you, secretly - know they probably won't like it.

Because something is in the sale, this does not mean it is nicer. In fact it's almost certainly not. That's why it's in the sale. You're tempted. Of course you are. But remember the old mantra: a bargain is not a bargain if it's not something you like or need.

If you see something you really, really like, and it's available in your size, and you can afford it, then BUY IT. Do not wait, and wonder, and brood, and finally decide, only to find it's now available in every size but yours.

My solution to the American election

I don't fancy Hillary Clinton,
And I don't have much time for D. Trump.
But I do wonder whether
They might work together,
And combine both their names into Clump?

Thursday and a piece of foam

I have in the past had three major back injuries (two horses and a staircase), and a mattress topper helps. The old one wore out; I bought a new one. Simple.

Not simple. The "memory" foam rubber mattress topper arrived on Thursday in a neat box. But on being opened up, it sprang forth like something alive, trebled in size, and lay blocking  the hallway and looking challenging.

It had to go up two flights of stairs. How hard could that be? A bit of foam....easy. Not easy. Not only was it huge, heavy and unwieldy, but it seemed to take on a life of its own. As we struggled up the two staircases - sometimes me on top; sometimes my new friend - I thought we would never get there. It writhed and bounced and threatened to hurl us  both back over the bannisters. I was determined  to win, not least because I didn't  want our hallway to be forever occupied by a mass of foam rubber.

On our journey, we bumped into furniture, swept books off bookshelves, knocked things over and had several  near misses with the stairs. I heaved and stomped and cursed; the foam merely looked smug. But we got there in the end. The memory foam has certainly given me  much to remember.

Advice to anyone thinking of buying any of this stuff:

1. Buy a bungalow first.
2. If no bungalow, whatever you do, DO NOT remove the memory foam from the box before taking it upstairs. You have been warned.

How the evening got worse (Monday evening part 2)

Phoned brother-in-law. Discovered lovely nephew has separated from wife. Must let him know how sorry I am, but don't have his email or phone number. Have idea. Facebook! Message nephew on Facebook saying I'm thinking of him etc etc. So far, so good.

Five minutes later, frantic phone call from daughter:


"MUM! DO YOU REALISE YOU'VE JUST POSTED ALL ABOUT M'S PROBLEMS ON HIS FACEBOOK WALL WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE IT?"

Oops. Back to Facebook, and daughter talks me through deleting my message, which wasn't a message but had now morphed into a news bulletin.

Gave thanks that I have a daughter who wastes as much time on Facebook as I do blogging.

Went to bed, where I (probably) couldn't do any more harm.