Well here I am again, turning up like a bad penny, as my Mother used to say! It's New Year's Eve and I've decided not to go out to yet another party. Frankly, I'd rather gaze at my log fire, and occasionally glance at the TV. The nearest party is downstairs (again) but I don't want to risk getting dressed up and falling down the stairs (again), so they will have to do without me. Apparently Terry Wogan is staying in tonight too, so I'm in good company. He and Lady Helen are looking after some of their grandchildren - sadly I'm not doing that though. Daughter, the Boyfriend and Grandson are staying at home in Dorking, because Daughter had her latest Colposcopy yesterday and is feeling pretty awful today. I went with her to the hospital (and Grandson came too). The procedure didn't take long, but it was pretty painful and she was white as a sheet when she came out, and couldn't stop shaking for quite a while. We were given cups of tea by the nurses, and then I took her back home to rest. She will probably feel like shite for a couple of weeks, and of course we have to wait for the results. I do hope it will all be OK.
Before I came home we had another panic when Grandson was in the bath - lots of red spots appeared on his upper body and Daughter decided we had better take him to the Doctor. So we did: him in his pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers, Daughter wrapped in a rug, and me trying not to have hysterics. In the end it wasn't too serious - we came back with cream for the spots and some special Calpol. He had a slight temperature, the spots of course, and the Doc. could hear a slight wheeze on his chest. If he is sickening for something, it should appear in the next couple of days. And then of course he has his Grommits operation next Monday! Anything else? I drove home at about 7pm, feeling shattered, and could hardly get out of bed this morning. No surprise there!
I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, and I'm sorry that I wasn't around to join in all the Christmas Blogging. We did have a lovely time: Son, Daughter, the Boyfriend and Grandson were all staying here. We all enjoyed our presents, food and bubbly, and went for a walk by the sea in glorious sunshine on Boxing Day. I had my fireplaces sorted the week before, so we had lovely log fires to sit by and it was very cosy indeed.
At the end of his very first term at Big School, Grandson appeared in his first Nativity Play as the King who brings Gold! He looked wonderful in his costume and crown, and said his words perfectly: "I have got Gold." And then he turned to the audience and gave a triumphant thumbs up! It was a delight to behold, and we felt very proud. Come to think of it, that was one of the best moments of our Christmas.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The End.
The best laid schemes and all that.. I couldn't have guessed how it would all end, but it was both surprising and, I suppose, inevitable. I should have known that I wasn't going to get out of that 10 week stint without some damage - and that's what happened. Are you sitting comfortably?
On Thursday morning I went into the en-suite bathroom that the Wee Git was using (as a favour and a privilege, since it is attached to the double bedroom and he was in the single bedroom) and noticed at once that a large crack had appeared on the base of the toilet. I examined it closely, and saw that the crack had come from an impact point just above it (where the outside of the toilet bowl curves out) and had spread down to the floor. Quite some damage, and probably unfixable, though it hasn't yet affected the toilet bowl, and isn't leaking. I wasn't best pleased, because that bathroom is (was) perfect, and immediately went downstairs and 'phoned the Language School to speak to the woman in charge of Host Families. I told her what I had found, and that I wasn't at all happy. She suggested that I should talk to the Wee Git about it when he came in. I went back upstairs and looked around for the piece of porcelain which had been chipped off - no sign - so I eventually emptied the small waste bin onto the carpet and there, nestling at the bottom, was the missing chip. It fitted perfectly. I now had a piece of evidence to the effect that whoever had done the damage had obviously decided to hide the evidence! I replaced all the rest of the rubbish in the bin and (luckily) kept the white chip in a safe place. I 'phoned back to the School and gave them the latest info. I had already called my plumber, only to be told that to supply and fix a new toilet (and remove the old one) would probably cost about £300. I was bloody furious by this time, and decided to go out and clear my head a bit.
When I came home, the Wee Git was already back from School, I asked him if he knew anything about the broken toilet. I was calm and perfectly polite. He denied all knowledge, and first of all said that it had been done when he arrived. Absolutely not. I knew this because I always clean the bathrooms to within an inch of their lives when I have guests or students. Then he said "Perhaps your Daughter?". That was as far as he got. Next " Perhaps your Friend?" I was livid that he should immediately seek to blame someone else. I told him that I was absolutely sure that it hadn't been cracked before HIS Friend stayed for one night a couple of weeks ago. He still denied all knowledge. Next I went to show him the contents of the bin - only to find, to my astonishment that he had emptied it!! This was the first time in 9 weeks that he had done any such thing! I asked him why he had done it and he blustered that surely I wanted him to empty it since he was going next week (?). I then showed him the perfectly-fitting chip which I had happily saved. He looked pale, but still denied all knowledge. I refused to speak to him for the rest of the evening, and over breakfast next day, told him that the woman from the School was coming to examine the damage. I could go on indefinitely, but suffice it to say that for two days he denied what was perfectly obvious, until I had had enough. And the opinion from the School was that he had pretty obviously done it, or knew how it had been done, and just wasn't telling. He kept on changing his story, and yet insisted that he was telling the truth. I won't bore you with all the details and the conversations, but in the end, yesterday, I'd had enough, and told him to go. He cried. And then, finally, offered to pay for the damage. I told the loathsome little creep that it was too late for that. He couldn't believe that I was actually throwing him out. He went off to spend the weekend in a Student House. This Student House is crowded, grubby, and he will have to cook for himself. He will also have to share a bathroom. He will hate it and, who knows, it may teach him something. Goodbye and good riddance. It will cost me probably £300 to fix the bathroom, and I'll lose this week's rent. I don't care - some things are more important than money. The End.
On Thursday morning I went into the en-suite bathroom that the Wee Git was using (as a favour and a privilege, since it is attached to the double bedroom and he was in the single bedroom) and noticed at once that a large crack had appeared on the base of the toilet. I examined it closely, and saw that the crack had come from an impact point just above it (where the outside of the toilet bowl curves out) and had spread down to the floor. Quite some damage, and probably unfixable, though it hasn't yet affected the toilet bowl, and isn't leaking. I wasn't best pleased, because that bathroom is (was) perfect, and immediately went downstairs and 'phoned the Language School to speak to the woman in charge of Host Families. I told her what I had found, and that I wasn't at all happy. She suggested that I should talk to the Wee Git about it when he came in. I went back upstairs and looked around for the piece of porcelain which had been chipped off - no sign - so I eventually emptied the small waste bin onto the carpet and there, nestling at the bottom, was the missing chip. It fitted perfectly. I now had a piece of evidence to the effect that whoever had done the damage had obviously decided to hide the evidence! I replaced all the rest of the rubbish in the bin and (luckily) kept the white chip in a safe place. I 'phoned back to the School and gave them the latest info. I had already called my plumber, only to be told that to supply and fix a new toilet (and remove the old one) would probably cost about £300. I was bloody furious by this time, and decided to go out and clear my head a bit.
When I came home, the Wee Git was already back from School, I asked him if he knew anything about the broken toilet. I was calm and perfectly polite. He denied all knowledge, and first of all said that it had been done when he arrived. Absolutely not. I knew this because I always clean the bathrooms to within an inch of their lives when I have guests or students. Then he said "Perhaps your Daughter?". That was as far as he got. Next " Perhaps your Friend?" I was livid that he should immediately seek to blame someone else. I told him that I was absolutely sure that it hadn't been cracked before HIS Friend stayed for one night a couple of weeks ago. He still denied all knowledge. Next I went to show him the contents of the bin - only to find, to my astonishment that he had emptied it!! This was the first time in 9 weeks that he had done any such thing! I asked him why he had done it and he blustered that surely I wanted him to empty it since he was going next week (?). I then showed him the perfectly-fitting chip which I had happily saved. He looked pale, but still denied all knowledge. I refused to speak to him for the rest of the evening, and over breakfast next day, told him that the woman from the School was coming to examine the damage. I could go on indefinitely, but suffice it to say that for two days he denied what was perfectly obvious, until I had had enough. And the opinion from the School was that he had pretty obviously done it, or knew how it had been done, and just wasn't telling. He kept on changing his story, and yet insisted that he was telling the truth. I won't bore you with all the details and the conversations, but in the end, yesterday, I'd had enough, and told him to go. He cried. And then, finally, offered to pay for the damage. I told the loathsome little creep that it was too late for that. He couldn't believe that I was actually throwing him out. He went off to spend the weekend in a Student House. This Student House is crowded, grubby, and he will have to cook for himself. He will also have to share a bathroom. He will hate it and, who knows, it may teach him something. Goodbye and good riddance. It will cost me probably £300 to fix the bathroom, and I'll lose this week's rent. I don't care - some things are more important than money. The End.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Crutchless Knickers Anyone?
Oh how naughty, but don't blame me, it's all down to my friend MOB and her suggestion for getting my own back on The Wee Git. I think it's a great idea, but it has just occurred to me that I'll have to go out and buy some if I want to stuff them in his unsuspecting suitcase! Now this would be fine for some of my younger Blogging friends, whose intentions might be said to be thoroughly naughty, but I'm a Grandmother.. What do I say? "Oh, I'm just buying them for my Daughter." Or do I just stuff them in my bag and try to get out of the shop without getting caught? (This brings vivid images of Grandma Giles, if any of you can remember that cartoon, she would definitely have been up for it.) I know there are some saucy ads in even the Hove local paper for "older ladies" who are prepared to offer a "good time", but come on, that's not me. (Sorry, Billy, not even for you :-)
So now I need more suggestions. How on earth do I get hold of the crutchless knickers without getting into a really embarrassing situation? In fact, where do I find them? It's rather a long time since I was out there, if you know what I mean, and I'm not telling you how long it is since I last had sex. This is turning into a rather more complicated exercise than I had imagined. That Wee Git has a lot to answer for...
So now I need more suggestions. How on earth do I get hold of the crutchless knickers without getting into a really embarrassing situation? In fact, where do I find them? It's rather a long time since I was out there, if you know what I mean, and I'm not telling you how long it is since I last had sex. This is turning into a rather more complicated exercise than I had imagined. That Wee Git has a lot to answer for...
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