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A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name - Page 28 - Carers UK Forum

A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name

Socialise and chat about other areas of your life
687 posts
SheWolf, I love belly dance classes, better than those Chinese classes.

But my big bone of contention is now BT. BT Outreach (or whatever they call their workers) are a pain. 4 technicians –yes 4 – it took to work out the fault on our land-line was outside not inside.

When I first rang BT, this really nice bloke guided me through testing the master switch. I was down on my hands and knees receiving instructions from him and my mobile.
I was putting the bloody thing up and down quicker than a fiddler’s elbow.

Him: OK… now you’ve located the master box…. The one with the line across it…

Me: Yes…. I’ve unscrewed it…. Now what?

Him: Are all the wires in place?

Me, not really knowing what I was looking at as there were so many different colured wires,

Me: None of them look lose to me…

Him: OK, we’ll send out an engineer, but it might cost you nearly £100 if the faults in your house. It will cost you nothing if it’s outside.

Me: Just send him!

He duly turns up, and couldn’t find a fault inside, and orders an outside technician to come. He couldn’t find a fault either, so another inside tech was called for. He, after doing all his tests, couldn’t find a fault so ANOTHER tech was called out.

SM nearly pissed himself laughing when I told him the reason our land line was down.

Apparently, squirrels had chewed through the cable, and BT had to replace the whole thing with a rubber wire with a coating squirrels don’t like…. Little bastards!
Given your previous discussions about squirrels, I'm wondering if they'd overheard, and this is their payback! Were the culprits identified as red or grey ones!?!?!?

Definitely grey, as there are no red ones where my dad lives. Although I have noticed a lot of the squirrels have reddish patches on their chests; so maybe they’ve interbred?

According to SM, there’s a large colony of red squirrels in Formby, so I wouldn’t put it pass the cable nibbling buggers.
The little buggers really do have a penchant for chewing cables… check out this website:
https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=squir ... 66&bih=635

My passport is still being processed, but my clothes thing is going well… I think?
The tailor SM has found thinks it best to leave ‘final adjustments’ till the week before hand. If I put on a few pounds, or lose them, it will affect how the dress looks. It’s a dress that can only look good if it fits like a glove either way, apparently.
Sounds logical to me, and the sort of thing my mum would’ve said.

Regarding posh clothes, or casual, I’m ok with both. It’s the middling ones I have trouble with. But my SIL is helping me with that.
When I asked her for her help, she practically jumped up and down in enthusiasm. She’s been wanting to ‘make me over’ for years. Cheeky cow! She’s carting me off to my idea of hell on Earth: A retail park called Cheshire Oaks….. urghhh!
But I trust her judgment as she’s always smartly dressed, in a casual way, on a shoestring… how does she do it?

Despite my admiration for her, in many ways, I’m dreading it…. Oh to be a back packer again!
You never know Saj, you might do the 'duck to water' thing. However knowing that your clothes are up to scratch will be a great confidence booster and he'll be glowing with pride at all the admiring (or jealous) glances you are getting. With your figure and a few glam 'glad rags' , how can you fail? How's the hand cream and nail growing going?

My hands are doing great. I’m using coconut oil as a moisturiser, and it’s ace. My fingernails; not so good. But who needs long finger nails? I like mine short, and they’re staying that way.

Dad has started telling me of his war time memories, in very vivid detail. I don’t know if this is a good thing or not.

For instance: His family lived on Scottie Road, an air raid siren went off. They all legged it to the shelter but were turned away as it was full. They had to go and hide in some park called the Mystery miles away (my dad was only 6 or 7 when this happened, so it probably wasn’t that far.)
They were in the open air, and my dad remembers being fascinated by these huge lights.

After it was all over, their entire street had been bombed. Dad remembers wading down their street covered in slates.

All the people in the bomb shelter they’d been turned away from had been killed as a bomb had landed right by its entrance.

Dad also remembers rummaging with his brothers of what remained of their possessions. They fitted in a borrowed wooden hand cart. They’d been re-homed by the Council in a tenements block and were pushing this hand cart along when they hit a steep slope. The bloody thing ran out of control, and they couldn’t stop it.

Me: What happened then?

Dad: I can’t remember….

How frustrating is that?

That expression of yours, Sudden Tears Syndrome, is spot on. This keeps happening to me far more now, nearly 6 months after mum died, than it did when she actually died. How weird is that?
I can go days without even thinking of her, minding my own business, then I’ll come across something that reminds me of her; always something really inconsequential. It’s like being kicked in the stomach and I end up crying like a baby. It doesn’t last for long, but I feel really shaken afterwards.

For instance, just last night I came across this purple thing that I’d heat up in the microwave. I’d wrap it around mum’s knee (I’d sewn Velcro on to it so it would stay in place) and the heat really helped to relieve her pain.
I was just holding this purple thing in my hand, and I suddenly, out of nowhere, started crying my eyes out. God, I miss her so much. But a bit of me also hates her for dying… how contradictory is that?

Is this what you mean by STS? Or have I got this completely wrong?
In a futile effort to get me to join his gym, SM most sonorously informed me there are 3 body types, and he wanted me to do this daft internet quiz thing to find out what type mine was.

SM: Right! There’s the Ectomorph; that’s long and skinny. There’s the mesomorph; that’s muscular. Then there’s the endomorph; basically fat. I think you’re a mesomorph; perfect for a gym, so why won’t you join me?

Me: Oh, really! I’ll do this daft questionnaire. But I don’t care what body type I’m supposed to be. Wild horses won’t drag me into a gym. I hate the bloody things; boring as shite…. I’d much rather dance.

So I did the questionnaire.

SM: Ha, ha! I was right.

Me: No you’re not. You’re half right, which also means you’re half wrong. I maybe 50% mesowhatsit according to your website, but I’m also 38% ectowhatsit, and 13% endowhatsit….. Probably explains why I’d rather learn to dance than do those boring things they do in gyms.

SM: Have you ever ACTUALLY been to a gym?

Me: Yes, ACTUALLY; twice… and I hated it both times. I was clock-watching like crazy, worse than being in a factory… at least I was being paid for that.

SM: But what’s so special about dance classes? I had to do them, and hated them.

Me: Then now you know how I feel about gym classes.

Impasse. I hate gyms, and he hates dancing. We compromised in the end. He’s going to come with me to a salsa class, and I’m going to go with him to his gym on some freebie pass he’s got.

SM: But aren’t we a bit miss-matched in height for Latin dancing.

I’ve never actually Latin danced in my life before – not properly with an actual partner – and hadn’t thought of that.

Me: Oh…. Don’t worry about it… I know…. I’ll wear high heels. Howsabout that as a problem solver.

SM: Well… in that case, I’ll definitely come.

Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger! Hoisted by my own petard.

I’ve now got to practise in the one pair of high heels I own. I can barely walk in the blasted things let alone dance. And I also have to go to some stupid gym thing too…. :o
Personally, I think doing a Latin dance with someone you absolutely loved to bits would be the sexiest thing possible. A bit of extra spice for your cruise?! Sadly, my OH wasn't keen on dancing!
687 posts