I never could get the hang of Thursdays

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The internet will be active in my new home on Thursday, assuming something in my life happens as it should for once. I will have to be living there before Thursday because I cannot stand it here any longer. Also the harpy will be getting letters soon about council tax etc, and I know what will happen then.

I have a respite in that Monday is a bank holiday so I have the weekend to move the last of the breakable things that matter to me but Tuesday’s arrival of post is the last possible moment I could survive here without gathering further blemishes. That is when things will start getting broken.

It’s not too bad, I can manage with the mobile phone connection for a couple of days although I can’t run the blog with it too well. It does mean CynaraeStMary can turn this place into a pink penguin paradise with topless (and maybe bottomless) hunky guy pics but it won’t be long before I can turn it back into a proper curmudgeon’s ranting place.

She can rant and she can digress just like me, she just doesn’t know it yet  😉 This blog will continue as before but with a little balance from my new feminine side.

The setting up of internet was not without hitch, as you’d expect. The online setup didn’t distinguish between flat numbers and house numbers in the same street and it looked like I was setting up for another house in another street in another town. There were phone calls. There were growls and there were hisses through teeth. There were apologetic operators and I could almost feel them cringe.

Eventually, three rather cowed telephone operators accepted where I lived and they made sure their records were correct so I would never have reason to call back.

Next, credit card companies. Oh that one should be interesting.

46 thoughts on “I never could get the hang of Thursdays”

        • I have been reading this blog since Live Journal days, i.e. pre-‘Blogger’ days (pre-2009) and I’m flummoxed.

          I had always thought that the Man in the Iron Leg was a bachelor gay with a house filled with Airfix and other models in various stages of completion/drying while drinking a dram or ten because there was nobody around to take off that ‘hat’ and fire crockery at his head (I’ve been watching my 21-disc Laurel & Hardy box set again).

          Has she been living with you up until recently? Is she Welsh? Have you tried Relate? How long have you been married for? Why such animosity?

          It might sound like the end of the old comedy, “Soap”, but it’s like she’s just popped into existence and has rendered everything which has come before somewhat of an illusion.

          I mean, if you were living together until recently, she can’t be all bad to have put up with all your projects and spending a fortune on whisky, can she?

          A former friend commented that I am the most logical person he knows and there seem to be logic gaps here.

          You don’t have to fill us in; that’s your prerogative. It’s not that I need to know, but it’s just strange, like one of your stories. where you find out at the end of a ‘War and Peace’-sized novel that the eponymous hero had been keeping back a secret in the light of which the rest of the narrative has to be reinterpreted.

          E.g., when you were at smokey-drinkies, did she have the girls over for a beetle drive or something?

          I’m not trying to be nosy or rude. You know I love you as a blogger.

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          • Stewart – if you look at “A restricted reveal” he has been giving a bit of an explanation.
            But thinking that there wasn’t a wife doesn’t mean there couldn’t have been one.
            I’m pretty sure that he at one point mentioned that because of possible future legal actions he was advised not to go into too much detail on a public blog. And I’d think even bloggers like to have some kind of private life.
            I apologise if that came off as rude, that was not my intention.

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          • I understand that marriage is sacred to you and believe me, I tried for over 20 years to make this one work. I finally had to admit I was with someone who doesn’t love me and probably never did. I was just the ‘Doctor’ trophy husband. This became very clear when I became just a janitor.

            I could tell you things – I won’t here – that would have even you wondering how I stuck it out this long.

            I should have ended it long ago but there was never any reason to push it. Now there is.

            The whisky? Why do you think I was drinking so much of that in the first place?

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            • As I said, above, I somehow hadn’t read your post, “A restricted reveal”.

              Sure, marriage is sacred, which is maybe one reason I have never tied the knot. It takes a lot of commitment, which is maybe another reason. I do know about drinking to dull the emotions. Different emotions, but same expensive ‘remedy’ which just paints over the cracks for a time.

              I’m sorry if I seemed somewhat flippant. I find some of those marriage scenes in Laurel and Hardy films awkward to watch. Obviously, wives treating their husbands maliciously was a big joke in the 20s and 30s.

              “Sober and slim and fit and ready to take on Satan himself.”

              That loser was defeated on Calvary’s tree.

              I suppose that after all these years, you seem like a friend, so it’s upsetting to read some of the things you have written. I hope and pray that things work out for the best.

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      • Yes, Leggy has always given the distinct impression of glorious bachelorhood. But he did make it very clear recently that a big secret was to be revealed, (and soon neutralized).

        Stewart has a very strong ethic, and feels compelled to suggest an attempted reconciliation! You have to admire that commitment to his principles!

        I myself fought very hard to keep a dead marriage on life-support, long ago. I finally let it go, and both of our lives were vastly improved.

        Two people are to be set free.
        Let it be.

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  6. Completely off topic, but thought you guys might like to know that a recent study has shown that drinking a large glass of water, or having a greasy takeaway after a night’s binging does absolutely nothing to stave off a hangover.

    And these researchers haven’t a clue what causes a hangover in the first place.

    And they want to justify their existence by claiming hangovers and alcohol cost billions to society.

    So they want more money to continue their research.

    Sounds vaguely familiar.

    And it’s utter tripe.

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-34072712

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    • I find it’s more to do with how fast you drink rather than how much. Make it last (at today’s prices that’s not hard) and you’re fine. Guzzle it, or mix different types of drinks, and you’ll have a sore head.

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    • What rot. I’ve suffered increasingly with hangovers since I’ve got older – never used to get them at all after a heavy night when I was a bright young thing, but from about my 40s onwards they started to take their toll. But I definitely find that if I can remember to have a large glass of water before finally stumbling into bed after a night of lavish boozing (not that that happens very often these days), the effects are definitely muted – more like a general, hazy feeling of being a bit tired, rather than feeling like there’s a gang of workmen using their pneumatic drills inside my head … My understanding is that the worst effects of a hangover are caused by dehydration more than anything else, ergo drinking water to alleviate the symptoms must be at least a bit of help.

      There you are – job done. Now, where’s my funding?

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      • The downside of a lot of water before bed is the getting up in the night…

        It’s true about the age effect though. 20s, okay after breakfast. 30s, about mid morning. 40s, lunchtime. 50s, the next day is a write off 😉

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        • Na. You are not doing it right. I am 54 and still get through 20 bottles of beer three or four days a week. Never a problem. Not had a hang over since moving here.

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  7. I wasn’t going to comment, but I’m dying to know one thing. If you were paying the bills, even to the extent that you had to sell stuff on ebay, how come she is in a professional job? What’s she been doing with her wages? Not spending it on the bills then….

    Ever thought you were a bit of a sucker?

    I do hope you get back 50% of the house. By rights you should do, now the children have grown up.

    Tell me to bugger off, if I’m being too nosy!

    :o)

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        • Ooh. Be very careful, Leggy. I know it may be tempting to go for the “That’s it. I’m outta here. Close the door on that chapter and start a new one” approach, but you can bet your life that (if she’s as bad as you say), she’ll get the advice of a good solicitor, and without the same on your side, you could find yourself still paying half of her bills, as well as your own in your new pad. You may indeed not want to initiate any “vindictive actions” yourself, but under the circumstances you could well find yourself on the receiving end of some initiated by her, and there’s nothing you can do to prevent that, fair or not. It isn’t even out of the question that if – either immediately or at a later date – you and CSM set up together, the Harpy (or rather her solicitor) may well take CSM’s earnings into account when arguing for how much you “should” pay to your “poor, deserted wife.” Don’t underestimate the cunning machinations of the legal profession – it’s what they do for a living and they’re good at it, and it’s always good to have someone equally cunning (i.e. a solicitor of your own) on your side when the accusations start flying around. I know that you and CSM are all starry-eyed with romance at the moment, but don’t let that blind you to the hard and (often) unfair realities of life which may land on your doorstep no matter how much you might want them not to. Be romantically determined by all means – nothing wrong with that – but remember to be down-to-earth realistic and sensible, too. Otherwise, to be frank, the Harpy will take you all the way to the cleaners and right back again. Just a friendly word of caution …

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