Mother has been collecting these Daily Mail numbers to get money off her shopping. Well, Granny buys the paper, so it’s a bit of a no-brainer really. First two times she did this – no problem, vouchers arrived. Now one has gone missing.
Mother duly waited the prescribed 28 days for this thing to show up, then she e mailed the Customer Service department and asked for a replacement. And what happened then? Nowt…….
So she has now e mailed them again. Nothing is guaranteed to make Mother see red more than being ignored. I have told her that the Customer Service department is probably staffed by a group of blind, deaf, three legged ferrets, but she insists there are humans in there. So, if any of them are reading this courtesy of Facebook, I have two things to say to you:
Why are you reading this in works time?
Send the bloody voucher…………….
Mother is counting the cash in her ‘Retirement Fund’ cat shaped money box. She looks a bit like Ebenezer Scrooge, but without the fingerless gloves, and I haven’t heard her say ‘bah humbug’. Yet………….
So far the total is about £30 which will be winging its way into the Nat West Bank tomorrow. As long as they don’t try to lend it to Greece – I rather think that she does want to see it again sometime before the next millenium.
Which brings me to my next question. If Greece goes bankrupt does it shut? Like Woolworths or something………..
Mother has just thrown away my old black collar – she says it’s getting tatty. My nice, comfortable collar, now a feature in the bin. What you humans don’t realise is that, to cats, a malleable, worn out collar is just the same as your comfy slippers. Or the ‘thing you wouldn’t be seen dead in except to put the bin out’, flat shoes or elasticated waist trousers with plenty of ‘wind’ room. I could go on………….
She is now going to try and make me wear an orange one with flowers on. She has got to catch me first…………………..
Well hasn’t it been warm today? Mother kicked me out of the house (not literally) at 7am this morning and I have been left to amuse myself all day. Now she has let me in, I am walking all over the keyboard – I pretend that this is just to annoy her, but really I am making sure that she is writing this down properly.
What exactly is an Indian Summer? How can we have one when we live in Britain? Doesn’t it belong to the Indians? Won’t they want it back?………….
Mother has finished my 2012 calendar – it now just needs printing and binding. This whole process is covered by the Official Secrets Act so I can’t tell you what next year’s theme is. All I can say is that there are 8 cats and 1 dog featured in it, which is just about the right ratio don’t ya think?…. And there are more pics of me than anybody else. …………..
Mother has decided that she is going to hold a ‘murder mystery’ party. This thing is set in 1930’s France, so I suppose there will be plenty of opportunities for stupid accents and necklaces made out of onions. Auntie did volunteer to be the dead body, but when she remembered that she would not be able to partake of all the smashing food and scintillating conversation (due to the fact that dead people don’t often eat and talk) she changed her mind. Besides, the deceased met a grisly end floating in a vat of wine, so I don’t suppose she thought she could hold her breath for that long either……….
This thing ain’t happening til Boxing Day, so I will let you know how the arrangements progress. For what it’s worth I think it’ll be Colonel Mustard in the Library with the Lead Pipe………….
Mother has been making ice cream. This is done in a similar way to the yoghurt making effort, basically you add powder to water, put it in the freezer and wait. This experiment was working particularly well until Mother added chocolate chips to the thing and they all sank to the bottom. Duh…..Even cats know the simple physical principle that heavy stuff will sink when put in liquid stuff.
So, now we have a very nice soft ice cream until you get to the bottom of the tub and then you risk breaking yer teeth on all that frozen chocolate………..
The only redeeming feature is the fact that creating this stuff follows the well known cat-cookery principle of hardly any work, wait for a bit and eat……………