I Don't Believe It

The first thing you must know is that you don’t need to know any of this.  Last night our landline stopped working.  I always call my Mum in the evening for an update.  I therefore called her on my mobile.  I left it ringing for quite some time, unanswered, this meant she would be in the kitchen or bedroom etc.  She knows to always callback.  Maybe she did call, but she didn’t know our landline wasn’t working, and it rang out as if we weren’t in.  Therefore I called her back on my mobile but her No was continually engaged (for the next hour).  I realised she’d put the phone down the wrong way round.  I then received a call from the 1st responder service (based in Rochdale!) to say my Mum had complained of yellow flashing lights.  On her phone.  The young lady responder (who was very good on the phone) explained to my Mum they couldn’t do phone repairs.  A responder happened to be 5 minutes from Stromness so she went in past my Mum.  She called me later and said she’d explained everything to my Mum but said she was overly keen to speak about the Duke of Edinburgh.  Who she’d never met.  (Although she did once meet Peter Ustinov in Edinburgh, shopping, he was buying socks.  I was present.  I can remember it well.  I don’t think the experience informed his career).

This morning I went through a BT ‘decision tree’ online to establish what was wrong with the phone.  At the end of several options it ended up asking me if I had an ‘AC’.  It was at this moment that I tried to charter the MV Hamnavoe to cross the Pentland Firth.  I knew I needed an immediate responder called Snapper.  Later in the day our phone rang.  CMC and I exchanged glances.  On picking it up it was BT calling to book a time on Wednesday for the Engineer to call around.  So I said to the wife ‘You’re calling me on a line that’s been reported no working.’  She said ’Oooh does that means it’s working now?’.  For those of faint heart I will not reveal what I said to the wife.  Some of the words were quite short.  It made Victor Meldrew look like Val Doonican.  Only Will Hay could have topped it.

Then Connie and Desie called from Forres to arrange a post April 26th meetup.  All it needs now is a coach party fae New Pitsligo to turn up.
Any likeness to any known Blippers, or any biped in the Northern Hemisphere, is purely coincidental.

I am now on the chaise longue, in my silk dressing gown with the Noel Coward motif, and CMC has lit a scented candle.  I think it’s donkey oxter.