A sign of the times

Returned from a very cold Hoy.   I spent my honeymoon in Rackwick; I was a tender trembling groom (I still am).

 Unfortunately Baz was in a lot of pain last night (no, not the Baz who is on the Cigs advisory board).  We fired him through to the vets in Kirkwall first thing this morning and he has had two teeth extracted.  I then spent most of my time becoming comatose trying to resolve why a third party insurance company will not out expenses even though their client wants it to pay me money.  Yes, once more I found myself being drawn into the vortex of trying to communicate with ‘people’ who cannot comprehend clear instructions; they often have little comprehension of everyday speech and they send letters with very poor levels of grammatical expression.  Oh and they never answer questions.  And they don’t care two hoots about their clients.  They also have the moral values of trollops.  But, of course, that would be doing a disservice to trollops.  Then my mother in law arrived.  It was all uphill from there.  I chopped some kindlers set the fire, made a vegetable curry, which is now on slow glow on the hob, for tonight’s tea.  I am currently drafting an advert for three positions in the Hoy Kirk during summer this year.  If there is no summer it will all be the fault of the insurance sector.  Honestly how can people work at such places?   Dick Turpin wasn’t even in it.

If you have been offended by any above comments there is a self-help line. And don’t forget other Blippers are available.