It's still raining, although the chap who was coming on Monday to touch up up a few chips and scratches on my car did actually make it today, so that was a good start. Actually that wasn't the start, the start was a 9:30am call from Mother to pick her up from my sister's where she had spent the night after they had been to my Barry Manilow loving Aunt's house for dinner and and girly night chatting in the conservatory; not a musical conservatory, just one of those glass things that you have attached to the back of your house. Quite hot in summer and bloody freezing in the winter and possibly just about bearable in this weather.
I digress (surprisingly), so I went to get her, she asked if it was possible to go out on a shopping trip to try and find a particular garment that my sister had purchased for her from a certain high street retailers catalogue. The neck was too big and so Mum wanted a size smaller. Of course the shop didn't have it, the lady helping us was very....helpful, but every time the dear thing checked a stock level in her shop or another she insisted on telling us that the stock system was 24 hours behind. I wouldn't mind but she explained this 4 times in a terrible whiny dialect that in synonymous with the Potteries (for anyone not from the UK - and possibly a few from the UK - the Potteries is the area of North Staffordshire which encapsulates the 6 towns of Stoke-on-Trent, and makes pottery surprisingly enough - Doulton, Wedgwood etc.). The dialect, although softer now in the older generation than it was was I was a child, is as confusing for the outsider to understand as Geordie or Glaswegian, this is not a bad thing, just an observation. It does, unfortunately, sound horribly unintelligent and dare I say even moronic though (this is an observation and a bad thing). Whereas the other 2 I mentioned do sound lilting and somewhat charming.
I managed to go shopping for a few groceries with only #4.20 (where is the sodding pound sign?) in my pocket, which meant I could only buy what I needed so that saved me a few quid.
Next I went to get my hair cut, granted this was done on a bit of a whim and was not at all thought out. I now have a summer hair cut, rather like a U.S. Marine, not a fresh recruit mind you, it's short around the side and the back and with a bit of length on top. More akin to a Colonel or a Major, you know someone who has been around a while and does not have to have the degrading stubbly slap head whilst yelling Hoo Yah! every thirty seconds. Why do they do that? It can't work very well in the field approaching the Taliban can it? Imaging crawling across the Afghan dessert singing, "I don't know but I've been told, blah blah something that rhymes with told......Hoo Yah Sarn't Major" they would get shot to shit doing that!
So, my car is shiny, my head is shiny (in parts), it's still raining, Mum didn't get a new top and N**t's stock control system sucks as it can't track anything in a shorter time frame than 24 hours.
By Jove you live and learn don't you?