50+ and proud of it.

Cynical old me was right. Vodafone "A" does not know what Vodafone "B" is up to. It transpires that "A" gave "B" (actually some third party merchant) the details of all people who were/are due for an upgrade. So "B" (Sam in Stourbridge) was merely doing her job. Hey ho. "Yes, that's right, we're a third-party merchant with all your details" "How's that in line with the Data Protection Act 1984 (later 1998) then?" (click)

(ring)(ring) "This is your solicitors here, 'they' want to complete on the 1st September, not the 8th as we definitely agreed before" "Eeek"

Whoa! Just got a call from the/my solicitors saying that "they" want to complete on the 8th September. So barring a major catastrophe, 8 months from a very hesistant January start to then doesn't seem to be too bad from what I can gather. Also, part of the sale was the contents of the bungalow. This means that I don't have to pay someone to clear the it and, more emotively, I feel that the future imcumbent will get some use from the furniture. As I understand it, House Clearance people often just destroy the stuff anyway. Here: "What's this Bill?" "It's a ming vase" "What's that then?" "Dunno" (smash)++1; Goto Here

(ring)(ring)(ring) Actually, it was the theme from "The Persuaders" but I can't spell that. "Hello" "Hello, you haven't had your phone upgraded for a while have you?" Long conversation ensues between the Wife and "Sam" from Vodafone, and a new package/phone deal is established. "Can I have your bank details to pay the one off £30 pound for the upgrade?" "Yes" "Can I have you date of birth for 'security purposes'?" "Yes" "Can I have the three digits off the back of your card?" "Yes" "Can I have every other possible detail that I might need to know?" "Yes" "Err, shouldn't they know all that?" I asked "Oh." "Maybe you should ring Vodafone back and see what 'phone' they are going to give you?" Long conversation the next morning with some other chap in Vodafone who had absolutely no knowledge about "Sam" ...

...that'll be "more about the hedgehogs" rather than an increase in Hedgehog population you understand. We haven't seen them for a while so naturally assumed that Mother Nature has run her course and Mother Hedgehog had had a quiet word with the little ones. "It's about time you lot left home, go and find your own slugs. I'm sick of fetching and carrying for you ungrateful lot..." (Hmm, where have I heard that before?) There I was cleaning up various dead vegetation from the greenhouse and picked up a plastic bag full of old, but clean, towels that were destined for "car things". "Bugger! That hurt!" Well, I suppose a pile of fresh clean towels is a much better prospect in Hedgehog City that a pile of damp leaves isn't it?

Y'know when something just doesn't feel right? Well, something hasn't felt right with the Mustang for ages - it's just that I couldn't put my finger on it. I don't drive it very fast as I only poodle around town to and from work which is not far away. However, last night was different - I went to beach about 25 miles away and really hacked it down the motorway (freeway 1 )... and it wasn't right . "What are you doing this morning?" "Err, car things, my dear...." (time passes as plugs are removed and compression checked) I'm not that stupid, contrary to some people's opinion, so as I removed the plug leads (wires) I marked them up 1 to 8. However when putting them back I decided to check the manual to see what it thought about the positions. The upshot of it was is that I had numbers 3 & 4 swapped, and the sad thing is, is that I have no idea how long they've been like that. "It sounds much better" commented my...

A quick catch up: As far as I know the Gas man, armed with a large hammer & chisel and protected by The Sweeney, did not turn up and cut the gas off. In fact, I did actually receive a re-issued bill which states that they owe me £7.82. Maybe Neil Armstrong was right - "That's one small step for Man, one giant leap for gaskind".

There I was staring at a blank wall (both work colleagues on holiday) when the phone goes. "Hello, it's the Estate Agents again" "And?" "Well, the chain of people want to exchange as soon as possible" "Right, so that'll be next Ash Wednesday then if the Solicitors have anything to do with it" "Err, no. They want to get a date at the end of August" "What this year?" Bugger. Now here's a choice: Do I take my holiday which is booked 19th August - 3rd September? Or, do I pass "Go" and collect £187,000? Touch choice.

Hmmm, maybe we have a problem Houston. Ok, Dallas, but you can see where this is going. My aircon bloke who's fixing the Mustang rings me up: "Err, where does this orifice tube go?" "Dunno, you're the expert. According to all my research it goes 'somewhere near the firewall' in some tube or other" "Nope, no way can that fit in there" (ring)(ring) "Hello Dallas Mustang, where does the orifice tube go?" "In the drier" (click) ....call back a/c chap. "Nope, can't possibly go there it's too large for the hole. I think it goes in the liquid line, that's why there's a crimp in the line and that's why I can't blow it through with nitrogen, and, your liquid line is so shagged that even if we were to get one of those Motorcraft repair kits, we couldn't use it anyway. You need a new line" (ring)(ring) "Hello DM. This is what my a/c bloke says...." "I've been doing Foxes for ...

Well, the air-conditioning stuff turned up yesterday from the "States" in a *huge* box that weighed a ton. Ok, it was 18kgs actually - that's, err, 39.6 lbs for older people - about 3 stones in real money, no wonder they charged me the price of a child's airline ticket to send it over... Having messed them about by adding bits to the order it arrived in about 4 days from Texas. I can strongly recommend Dallas Mustang - nice guys and very knowledgeable. Let's see whether anyone over here can fit it.

(ring)(ring) "Hello" "Hello, this is the Estate Agent telling you that everything's going swimmingly well with your bungalow sale. Thanks, bye" What? You mean they actually rang me up without prompting to tell me there's nothing wrong? This wouldn't be anything to do with me just possibly querying their fee would it? Surely not.

Now something they don't tell you about until you're committed for the CT scan (i.e. lying there with your head in a big whirly pencil sharpener thing is that they will inject some "dye" into your arm. This is after you've spent the last hour drinking a litre of some muck that tastes remarkably like Pernod or Ricard (and, no, after the second glass you really are fed up with it). Ok, maybe you don't mind a cannula in your arm 'cos it really doesn't hurt if they get it right, but then they drop in that you may get a strange warm feeling "all over". "Ok, carry on then" (as if I actually had a choice by then). "Just a small scratch" (again old joke about when I went to the Vets - sorry clinic - so have some important bits "snipped") "Oooh, that is a strange feeling..." And then the best bit... "You might feel as if you've wet yourself" and then they rush off behind a bullet-proof screen befo...