I don't know about you, but I hate Destroy it Yourself shops like B&Q. Last night, Roberto (husband) and I had to go for some coving and a ceiling rose for the living room. Our B&Q in Hull is enormous and could we heck as find the coving section. Roberto, who is a typical man, would rather die than ask a member of staff for directions. Well, blow-me-rags (as my late mother-in-law, Beatrice Printemps, used to say), he completely surprised me and said, "I'll just ask where it is". He turned round to ask what he thought was a member of staff and it was one of those bloody cardboard cutouts of a human being that they have in B&Q stores. That's it, he will NEVER ask for directions again (mainly because I laughed so much).
We finally unleashed Bob the plumber who managed to fix the central heating by lunchtime today. I forgot he was still in that room, tied up to the boiler with nylon rope, and wondered why his big red Jag was still in our drive at 7.30 this morning when I looked out of the window. He was a bit shaken up, but relatively unscathed, but after getting the central heating going and testing all the pipes, he flew out of our house like a bat out of hell. We'll probably never see him again.
Our friends up the road, who are farmers, also had some building work done recently. William the famer's builders were Irish and he kept telling us that it was so embarrassing because he couldn't understand their strong accent and he was having difficulty in communicating with them. Anyway, it got to the end of the week and he said to one of them, "I'm so sorry, I'm still having problems understanding your Irish accent". The builder replied, "No Irish - Polish".
On Monday the electricians will be returning. They younger one talks just like Scooby Doo (seriously, that is the way he speaks normally). Must remember to stock up on Scooby snacks.
A bientot mes amis!
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