16 December 2010 (Thursday) - Monging Fish

I occasionally (usually) gripe on about my insomnia. Last night I had a wonderful eight hours sleep, and didn’t even get up for the loo once. How good was that! I’m sure I sleep better when I’m on a late shift and don’t need to get up at the crack of dawn.

Being on a late start I had time to go through my post this morning. My house contents and building insurance is up for renewal. I may well be able to make savings on that, but seeing how most of the mortgage is due to be paid off sometime soon, I think I shall leave the household insurance as it is for a while. Things may go squafty during the mortgage pay-of, and not fiddling with insurance may go some way to keeping the building society sweet.
The tax office have written to me changing my tax code because of “employer benefits” which appeared on a form P11D (?) which my employers sent to the tax office. I had no idea what this is, and so I phoned the tax people this morning. They had no idea what it was either. Their system didn’t allow them access to see what it was, and they suggested I phoned the wages people at work to find out what it was all about. I’ll do that later.
And there was an Xmas card from the happy-clappy-loony-chappies church round the road from us. They asked if we’d like to bother God with them over the forthcoming festive season. I still have copies of my last correspondence from them. In June 2001 they wrote to me to say that “My Boy TMhad been banned from their youth club (in perpetuity) for sundry non-specified crimes. They never had the good grace to write back to me to explain exactly what he’d done wrong, so if they think I’m going to spoil my Xmas with religion for them, then they can go think again.
Talking of Xmas cards, there was one in amongst my post addressed to “Mr Fox” from Safe Hands Mobility of Folkestone, offering him twenty quid off of a zimmer frame, fifty quid off of a bath lift, or a ton off of a made to measure chair or a mobility scooter.
And “My Boy TMhad a parcel today. He’s spent fifty quid on new back lights for his car. Which is nice, but for one minor problem. At the moment he doesn’t actually have a car. I would have seen that as a major problem, but he seems unperturbed.

To work, which was the same as ever, and then having dusted the snow off my car I came home in time to see what was arguably the best TV show ever. You can forget all about Big Brother and X-Factor. The program to watch is “Young Fishmonger of the Year”. Three young fishmongers had their monging skills tested to the utmost, but Danny was soon knocked out because of his sloppy filleting. Andy and Sam went head to head. Andy’s shoulder of huss was impressive, but Sam threw it away when he made a schoolboy error with his halibut. It was really good – I’ve not seen a show of this calibre in a long time. And I won’t again: ‘er indoors TM has banned me from watching it again. Can’t imagine why….

Meanwhile RU12 and Frosty the Snowman are sitting on Frosty’s sofa. Or, to be precise, Frosty is sitting on Frost’s sofa. RU12 doesn’t fit; Frosty’s bottom is too festively plump.
They are enjoying the festive fire, which is burning well for no adequately explained reason.

It is odd how one may take a moral stance against a patio set, but not against a sofa. But bearing in mind what happened to the last fellow who disagreed with a snowman, who’s going to argue the point?

1 comment:

  1. Nice work on the mortgage. Hope to be there in a few years myself...