My wife Jennie is currently in the UK, hammering the plastic with her sister. I have just discovered that there is a Goddess of Women and She has just pointed out to me that men are utterly useless on their own. Last weekend, I rode 200 km up to Coromandel in pouring rain to finish painting the bathroom so that Jennie would have nothing to complain about when she gets home. The moment I got there, the sun came out and the weather has of course been fantastic ever since. Despite offers to go fishing with neighbours, I diligently stayed indoors focused on the task at hand (as guys do) all weekend then rode home again on Monday afternoon. It was a lovely ride home and I was of charitable disposition.
I had been somewhat negligent about the clothes washing schedule and was fast running out of work shirts so went into the laundry and bunged a full load in the washing machine. This included some smalls of Jennie's which I imagine she expected me to wash the day she departed for the UK. (fat chance, hehe). Having set all that up, I strolled into the dining room to find a dismembered duck which had presumably been caught down at the local creek by one of the cats (Jennie's, I'll warrant). Cleaned the mess up and went back to the laundry to find that the sodding washing machine had jammed up part the way through the cycle. Here it was, absolutely chokka and I didn't have a clue. Blood pressure rising. Damn, will call the repair man in the morning. Wander into a spare bedroom and find yet another partially demolished duck - Jennie's cat staying well out of the way - it probably detected the bad vibes from that part of the house. Wise cat. Clean up the mess and then notice that the cat doesn't actually like duck very much - there is cat sick with feathers all over the spare bed duvet. Now almost out of control - washing machine kaput and no automated means of getting sick off duvet.
Go into other spare bedroom to check on weekend's crop of emails. Drag and drop emails for Jennie into her folder. Not looking what I'm doing due to extreme anger and delete her folder - I DON'T BLOODY BELIEVE WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME. Give up on everything and go and cook tea. Sulk for the rest of the evening and feel sorry for myself. Send email to Jennie apologising for the deleting episode - best done at long range methinks.
Next morning, call the appliance repair man - at least he comes promptly. Spends 5 minutes in the bowels of the washing machine (at least I'd hauled out the soggy clothes for him) and he produces a steel wire from one of Jennie's bras I'd washed - it had jammed the pump impellor! So now I'm expecting a monstrous bill for a 5 minute job which I could have done myself if I'd known where to look. The duvet with cat sick on it came up rather nicely though.
Then there is the problem I have with Xtra broadband playing up, and my post about an apparent browser glitch or hijack.
I don't like bachelorhood![]()
Jennie is back on November 5th. Knowing my luck, she will be jet-lagged and the only fireworks I’ll get will be of the purchased kind.
Thank you for listening to my rant, I feel somewhat better now!
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