The need to go back to work for a rest

We have had the week off, which I thought would be a nice and relaxing time, getting us ready for the build up to Christmas. Mrs B, however, had other ideas. To make the new TV feel at home (and for me to realise the magnitude of her gesture in agreeing to such a large TV …………..and there was me thinking it was to do with the diamond ring that I bribed her with) Mrs B has decided that most of the house needs an upgrade which as far as I can tell involves paying out vast sums of money to various workmen who proceed to wreck the joint with a vague promise that “it will turn out all right in the end, guv”. During this process, we discovered that workman are very territorial and don’t like sharing space with other workmen; they aren’t all that keen on us being around us; and some of them don’t even seem to get on with themselves. I had to intervene twice with one guy who kept picking on himself and at one point was arguing so loudly that it drove the cats out of their normal hiding places around the house and off into the garden (which is almost unheard of).

McG or is it Mischief (difficult to tell)

hiding from the workmen

It has been a stressful time working out a schedule that gives each workman enough time to do their work and clear out before the next one arrives. Quite tricky when Mrs B has booked, in the space of one week, :-

- Velux windows installed in the hall – to allow delivery men extra light to see where they are going when they deliver the TV. I offered to put a more powerful bulb in the hallway but Mrs B convinced me that for something this expensive only daylight will do. What’s the betting the delivery of said TV takes place after dark….?

- Remove the fire place and surround – to make sure the room is cosy enough for a large TV. Like a room with a 58” TV can ever be described as cosy…………

- Replace the stair carpet. This is getting silly - it’s like the TV is royalty. Unless it is going to get a tour of the house before settling in its new home, the TV will pass, but never actually get to use, the stair carpet.

- Decorate the living room, dining room, hallway, (please note that this is an “Oxford Comma”, not entirely sure what that is but if it’s good enough for Vampire Weekend it’s good enough for me) and one of the spare rooms. Again this only comes into play if the TV gets a royal tour of the house. Apparently Mrs B is taking no chances.

- Have new window shutters fitted - so the light does not disturb the TV when it is having a kip in between mammoth film watching sessions.

I have a sneaky suspicion that Mrs B might be taking advantage of the TV; I’m monitoring the situation and will let you know………..

You would have thought that all the hard work would be done by the workman. Not a chance. You have to keep an eye on them all the time and it’s worse than dealing with a bunch of 5 year olds…

“Put that power tool down and step away from the decorator…”

“Yes it is a very nice and neat box and yes you have put a lot of work into it but it’s not what we asked for and won’t actually work for us!” This was our reaction after we had given the carpenter instructions on the minimum size of the opening that we needed for the bespoke cabinet Mrs B is having built to hide all my electrical gubbins and left him unsupervised for a couple of hours. Despite the fact that we discussed with him the number of units that we needed to house and he was working next to the miles of spaghetti spewing from my current entertainment setup he had taken it on himself to create a box to the precise measurement of just the amp without allowing any room for anything to connect into it at the back. He got very sulky when he had to dismantle it. Yes I have to admit that it looked neat but was going to be about as useful as a chocolate teapot…Oh damn I should not have mentioned tea - they are all demanding more. What is it with workmen? Most of them seem to be on a minimum of 15 cups an hour…. I think it’s costing us more to boil the kettle than for the actual work that we are having done.

I even have to keep an eye on Mrs B. I don’t know if you have seen Spinal Tap and can remember that they gave instructions for a life size model of Stonehenge to be created for their stage show? This would have worked really well except when they gave the instructions to the builder they asked for 8” rather than 8’ and so, as the creation descended onto the stage during the first performance, instead of the behemoth of a prop they were expecting, a tiny little model appeared that could hardly be seen. Mrs B attempted to recreate this scene in the living room. In her mind she had created a substantial stepped effect in the height of the living room cabinets. In reality, however, the 50mm difference in height she actually asked for was barely noticeable……….For once I felt sorry for the carpenter as he dismantled the structure and started again..


Just at the point when I thought I could have a bit of a rest, a lorry turned up and dumped three years worth of salt blocks for our water softener onto the driveway. I guess it was my own fault as I had actually ordered it but I had assumed that it would take a couple of weeks, not a couple of days, to come through

One of the roofers (the more intelligent of the two – i.e the one who could string three and, on occasions, four words together, asked me what it was for :-

Me :– “It’s salt for a big dinner party we are throwing…”

Slightly more intelligent of the two builders, but that’s not saying a lot :- Blimey mate, you get through a lot of salt at your dinner parties. Perhaps I’m being unfair on him - that was a whole sentence.

This was our third favourite conversation with him, the second favourite being when he had just finished plastering around the window and announced to Mrs B:

S.m.i.o.t.t.b.,b.t.n.s.a.l :- “That’s not a bad job considering I’m not a plasterer.”

Mrs B :- Speechless

My favourite conversation with the roofers took place on the first day. They had just knocked a hole through our roof when he announced:

S.m.i.o.t.t.b.,b.t.n.s.a.l :- “Did you have difficulty getting planning permission for the windows?”

Me:- “What planning permission?”

S.m.i.o.t.t.b.,b.t.n.s.a.l :- “Did the Gov’nor not tell you?”

Me :- “No!!!”



TV update
It was all going so well until I made the mistake of trying to support the local shops. Yes they price matched. Yes they gave me a five year warranty. Yes I would get it in 7 to 10 days… Only after they took my money did they inform me that it was very unlikely that they would be able to get us the TV before Christmas. Before Christmas?! Even the worst maths student in the word would find it hard to take 7 to 10 days and make that equal to 5 weeks…..Aaaaarrrgggghhhh!!!!!!


Boy’s toys
To console myself with the long wait for the TV and the less than restful week, I got to play with a power saw that one of the workmen left over night. Fantastic! I started out by cutting a couple of batons for some shelving I’m creating in the loft. The next thing I was out purchasing more wood to feed my new addiction. I have now cut enough wood to build a reasonable sized log cabin.

Death and destruction at the hands of a power tool

Fantastic stuff, bring on the next tree....

Busted
Mrs B found my secret squirrel stash of goodies (chocolate bars, biscuits etc that Mrs B deems unsuitable for me to eat), I knew there was a reason why I banned her from the garage…. Before you judge me harshly, and in my defence, I would like to call to the witness stand a jumbo-sized tin of biscuits:

Me :- You are a jumbo-sized tin of biscuits?

J-stob :- That is correct

Me :- Do you remember the day I brought you out to serve to some guests?

J-stob :- I do

Me :- Were you sealed?

J-stob :- Yes

Me :- When I unsealed you and offered you to the guests, how many biscuits did you contain ?

J-stob :- I don’t know, I’m a box of biscuits and I can’t count.

Me :- It’s OK, I shall protect you from any repercussions .

J-stob :- I would rather not say.

Me :- May I remind you that you are under oath.

J-stob:- Two

Me :- Speak up, I didn’t catch that.

J-stob:- Two

Me :- What is your capacity?

J-stob :- About 40

Me :- Is there anyone present in the room who had previously opened you?

J-stob:- Points a corner accusingly at Mrs B – admittedly this would have been more effective if it had not been a round tin…..

Me :- And did that person reseal you?

J-stob:- looking really guilty Yes

Me :- Sorry?

J-stob:- Yes.

Me :- I rest my case.

Porn star name (or Prawn star name if you ocean fixated)
You have probably played it before but in case you haven’t or want to share it with the world again

The rules

Take your first ever pets name
Then add your mother’s maiden name

It’s only fair that I kick things off. My Porn Star name is……….

“Muffin Searson”

While Mrs B’s is

“Porgy Beerling”

I’m just thankful that I didn’t abuse my first pet in the past with names like:

Limpdick
Crap in bed
Wee wee,poo,poo,nipper (yes that was an old friend’s first pet’s name. Basically his porn career is stuffed…..although there is probably a “speciality” market out there….)

Now be honest and no cheating

Thank you to Gingerella for bestowing on me an award. I have to do things with it but have run out of time so that will happen next week. For those of you with a squeamish nature it might be a good idea to avoid next week’s BlackLOG as we are going to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show in full costume. There will be pictures, so don’t say you weren’t warned…………………..