You know that work I was talking about yesterday? I hin’t done it, as we say in Norfolk. I have done stuff, I cleaned the kitchen and hoovered the drawing room and I watered the greenhouse and picked vegetables, but I only answered a few emails and not the tricky ones. Well, not that tricky. But there was a bill to the church that I queried in writing and the bloke looked me up and phoned – I pointed out that I’d not put in my phone number because I needed a written reply for the records – he said he’d check out things and write, but three months have passed and a new copy of the original bill has turned up, with no covering letter. I’m none too pleased. I’ll email my reply – reluctantly, as I don’t really want to send out my address, but nor do I want a new one to have to keep checking – as I really can’t be doing with more phone calls.
The other email I know I have to reply to is another nice lady whose china is not Lowestoft and I’m going to have to tell her. I’ll do it tomorrow morning, I promise.
I’ve had several annoying phone calls in the last few days. We’re registered with the Telephone Preference Service for both our phones (not had any problems with the mobiles as yet) but I had a phone call on the internet phone on Saturday and two on the landline today, each from the same marketing company wanting to carry out a survey. I’ve checked, they aren’t covered in the TPS regulations. In each case, the caller has been Indian and I’ve been brusquely polite – twice I’ve put the phone down and once it was put down on me. Tonight, I was cooking dinner when the phone rang again and the Sage answered. A minute or two later, he brought it to me and an Indian man was starting to ask questions. I said that my husband had just given me the phone, was he from a marketing company? He said, oh no, he was phoning on behalf of my telephone provider. Okay, I replied, who is that? He didn’t want to answer, but when I pressed, he said it would be either TalkTalk or BT. Neither of those is my telephone provider, I’m registered with the Telephone Preference Service not to receive cold calls and I don’t want to answer any questions, I said. And put the phone down. I used to be polite – well, I’m not rude in the least but I am not welcoming. I am heartily fed up with this sort of thing. I do have sympathy for the people phoning, poor devils are up all night as India is 5 1/2 hours ahead of us and it was 7.10 when he phoned – but that’s not my problem, I’m afraid. Next time I’m phoned by that marketing company, according to the advice on the TPS website, I have to ask them to take my number off their calling list.
Al and Dilly have looked after the greenhouse beautifully, tied up the cucumbers which were in a right pickle, and weeded thoroughly. I have picked a lot of cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, aubergines and chillies, and made ratatouille this evening. It was about half a pound of each vegetable-worth, and I thought I’d add a little chilli to give some zing. I nibbled the end of a small one, which was okay, so I cut off the other end and tasted again. I just touched my tongue to the bit I’d cut off.
I downed my glass of wine rather hastily.
It was a very small chilli that, deseeded, I added to the pan of ratatouille, but when we came to eat it, it was still notably spicy. Very good, but not quite classic.
Tonight, I’m going to watch University Challenge (I’m sure I’ve mentioned that Bamber Gascoigne was my childhood heartthrob so it’s a sentimental thing, though Paxo isn’t the same at all) and then read. Possibly an earlyish night. Maybe not. I’ve got lots of books to read, more buying and borrowing than reading recently.
As I said in the comments earlier, the rumour that the fire in the flat at the weekend was started deliberately has been confirmed as a fact. Some people are horrible, aren’t they? A minority of course, but a nasty one.