Weeks 54 & 55: Rage!

I hate it when you arrive home to official looking brown envelopes. Always makes you think you’ve done something wrong. Worse, there’s a strange sense of deja-vu in this as it wasn’t so long ago that I was saying something very similar when Gin was busted for ignoring road signs. This time there’s a brown envelope on the mat from DVLA greeting BT (Boy Teenager) and I when we arrive home from walking the dog.

Now I know I’ve done nothing wrong from a DVLA perspective. The road tax for both cars is paid for by direct debit, removing any possibility of forgetting (which I do a lot of). So what can this be?

I open the letter. “We have reason to believe that vehicle KTxxxx was driven on 9th March without road tax. It is an offence to drive without road tax. You usual payment method is by Direct Debit”. Eh?

I decided to check on-line. It screams “UNTAXED” in big red letters. What? How?

Ah well, a call to DVLA would be needed. After the obligatory 20 minutes on hold, I spoke to a helpful young lady, who told me that the transfer of the ownership of the car has not been completed by the garage that sold it (thanks Merc in Chelmsford, you would think with the minuscule number of cars being sold in February 2020, getting the admin right wouldn’t have been difficult, but alas no). As a result, the car is sitting in the DVLA’s system without a registered owner, but because the last known owner was a Motor Trader, the DVLA determined that it wouldn’t fire off the road tax direct debit. Even though the car had already been taxed by me for the previous year. And the direct debit is in my name. Also that it wouldn’t tell me that it had decided upon this action, nor indeed would it send out any reminders that the tax was due. Isn’t it amazing though that magically, despite not being able to do any of the things that would have prevented us driving around without road tax, it can send me a notification of a possible fine for not having it. I feel a fight coming on.

Talking of fights, the bloody shower valve saga rumbles on with the latest one to be fitted close to failing completely. The installers don‘t want to take responsibility (I can understand that, but the Supply of Goods Act says otherwise), and the manufacturer is wriggling like a snake on a stick. Their latest: can I send them a video of the problem? Yeah, only of I smash a hole in the wall to show the offending valve in situ. Grrrr. Don‘t want to end up in small claims court, but I can see it going that way.

And don’t start me on EasyJet. You may recall that the buggers cancelled our Corsican flights, but couldn’t be bothered to tell us? Eight weeks later and the Voucher for the flights still hasn’t arrived, despite a chase call and a promise that said item would be emailed within three days. As it is it seems flights oversees this summer will be banned, or at least the logistics of coming back with quarantine etc will make them impossible, I can foresee the £1,300 flight vouchers (if they turn up) not being used and the money lost. What can you do?

While I am on a Corporate-bashing roll, let’s talk about BT. A few weeks ago, our 11 year old Mac failed for the final time and can‘t be repaired as the parts are no longer available. We decided to buy a new mini-Mac as its main use is as a telly and internet access point in the kitchen. BT were selling these a couple of hundred quid cheaper than anyone else. Result! What BT failed to tell us is that its TV and Sports apps don’t work on the new Mac-mini (apparently it is “working on a solution”). Which of course I found out when I tried to watch some footy whilst cooking. Now I don’t know about you, but I think it‘s a tad unexpected that the purveyor of TV and other communication services is flogging kit that doesn’t operate said purveyors services. Grrrr. Again.

Gawd I need to calm down. This level of angst is not good for a chap of advancing years.

Good news! As I mentioned above, BT came out for a walk with Milo and I for the first time in many, many months. After a bit of a slow start, he got into the swing of it, and was soon trying to race Milo to get to a thrown ball first. BT and I have a lot in common, but also a lot that isn’t. One of the things that I love, but which he is ambivalent about, is nature. I was getting all excited about two buzzards that were flying close by, and some green woodpeckers that were arrowing about. I kept pointing these things out to him, to be greeted with a “You’re weird Chunky”. And then I twigged; he couldn’t see any of it as he had refused to wear his specs. I tested the theory by asking BT where Milo was (he had ranged off in front of us by a few hundred yards). “I don’t know” said BT, “All I can see is a couple of Magpies”. That couple of Magpies was actually Milo. Uh oh. Cue long discussion about why BT won’t wear glasses when we are out (Answer: he hates them. Of course). He could though see far enough to laugh like a drain when Milo decided to go for his first ever swim in a pond. Right at the end of the walk when we want him clean and dry to get in the car. And let me tell you, Eau de Duckpond-Dog will never take off as a fragrance.

More good news! GT (Girl Teenager) was very nervous of returning to College, particularly as she faced a few days of assessments almost immediately. She’s been great though, settling back in, seeing her friends and getting through the assessments without any issues. With a history of anxiety, these are Big Things and we are really pleased for her that she managed all of it so well. Onwards and upwards GT!

And then there’s me; although I’m firmly settled on the idea of not going back into Corporate life, and of earning a few bob walking dogs, when I’m out strolling through the fields and hedgerows with Milo I slip into Thinking. We all know that Thinking is Dangerous as Thoughts get in the way of the Peace. But it’s hard not to. And recently there’s been this little nagging voice that keeps asking if I’ve “failed” because I can’t face going back to, as Gin puts it, earn the Big Bucks. It’s silly really; there is no question that Gin and I swapping a year ago (with her returning to work and me stopping) has made us both much happier, and then of course there are the massive steps forward BT has made (I honestly don’t know how much of that is to do with the changes we made and how much is to do with him maturing, and the effects of lock-down keeping his mates at home too). The rational brain says “don‘t be so bloody daft, it’s worked for everyone”, but the irrational part - the bit that liked having and Aston Martin and wotnot - seems to be unconvinced. Well tough titty irrational mind, this is the way it is. Now, how can I get that little voice to shut up when we are out in the fields in the sun?

And with that, we head into weeks 56 and 57, during which lockdown should ease a bit and there may even be some golf and seeing people (outdoors of course). Having said that I've decided that these blogs have become stale, mainly because very little happens (and the really big stuff, like BT being signed-off by CAMHS, has mostly already taken place). I'm going to suspend writing a regular, formulaic blog and will only update it when there is something notable to say. If you enjoy these little missives and want to know when I post ad-hoc updates in the future, please scroll to the very bottom of the site and subscribe; you'll get an email when a new entry is posted.

Thanks for coming with me on the journey, and until next time ...

Love and elbow-grease,

Mr H

x

PS I feel I should publicly apologise to Running Around John, whose birthday in March it transpires I’ve been getting wrong for two decades. I don’t think it made him feel any better to learn that I got my own wedding anniversary wrong for the first 10 years either. Told you I have a bad memory.