Life with a hearing aid and a screeching wife.

What you may not know, no reason why you should really is that for the past few years I have been using a hearing aid.

When I was first fitted with it two years ago, I thought this is amazing I can hear people talking, I could still not use a telephone in that ear as all I got was an earful of feedback. If you think you have heard feedback from a microphone wait till you have to have a hearing aid. But the thing which has driven me around the bend for the past few years the the high pitched screech that comes from my dear wife's mouth when ever she is trying to be sarcastic.

Now Monday last the NHS fitted me with a new super duper hearing aid. The thing is amazing. Where before I had to change the program's manually (crappy little button on top of the unit). But this thing does it automatically it senses when it's in a quiet room and compensates for it, listen to music it sets its self up automatically even sets its self up for the telephone. The dam thing will even link via blue tooth to my mobile telephone.

So why is it they can not find a hearing aid that will stop that dam screeching  woman that I married. Her voice is more powerful than the most advanced  electronics.

- only you will know, is it worth bothering?

What is Christmas these days?.

It could be that I'm not as observant as I once was, could be old age but I think it's once again this global conspiracy to turn people away from any and all traditional roots.

Do our lords and masters think that the masses will be easier to control? If they worship the great god of consumerism?

Years ago, mother started to buy presents in the new year sales for the next years Christmas presents. Apart from that then it would have to be the tally man for gifts and she would end up paying for them over the following year.
These days of instant credit and plastic no one thinks of the cost, it's just a case of sign on the dotted line and its yours at once. The first Christmas present that I can remember was a transistor radio made of Bakelite.

To call it a transistor radio well that's probably being kind. From memory it was 2 inches wide 9 inches long and about 9 inches high.

Not what we in this day and age would consider a transistor radio, these days we even build them in our watches, and mobile phones.
But I'm wondering again. It seems to get easier to let you mind wonder the older you get.

Christmas lunch was prepared by the women of the family, all of the shopping purchased, vegetables peeled and prepared along with the turkey(which was always fresh, no such thing as a freezer) but the men were the Christmas lunch chefs about the only household task they did for the year.

The women were sent to the best room, yes we had a best room, not allowed into it the rest of the year that was for posh people and visitors. There they sipped the small glasses of sherry that none if them really wanted, bottled Guinness would have been more to their tastes.

To be fair I can not remember a Christmas lunch from my youth that the food was not perfect which was amazing because the closer to eating time it became the drunker the men in the kitchen would become. Ensuring that after lunch they would leave all of the washing and cleaning to the women whilst they got on with the serious business of sleeping in the chairs.

Another thing Why do we always invite more people than there were chairs?
At Christmas you would have the family around, relatives, old people well anybody over 10 was old to me. That there was never enough chairs in the posh room, two armchairs and a two seater settee.

The chairs around the kitchen table were like Joseph's multi coloured coat, many colours and many shapes but at least we had them. Some of our neighbours had stools. If you sat on them you could get sea sick.
Do I consider that I had a deprived childhood, never thought about it before. Yes would be the answer to that question. There was never a lot to go around and what there was went down my fathers throat and into the tills of the local pubs. But that's the way he was brought up, like his father before him and his before him. No wonder its taken me 60 odd years to live down the sins of my father.

We get (the wife and I) invited to the brother in laws and his wife's home on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. Not any other time of the year but we can tell not to intrude on them any other time. There used to be lots of old folk there for the "festivities" but they have all died and we are the new old folk.

Bugger me when did that happen?

- only you will know, is it worth bothering?

That bloody satnav

To think that an inanimate bit of plastic and glass can have a sense of humour would normally reduce me to fits of laughter. But today the bloody thing has reduced me to a quivering wreck.

I had been promising she who must be obeyed a trip to see the Blackpool lights for several years, well to tell the truth something like twenty years but who apart from her is counting?

We left the darkest parts of hobbit land (Cornwall) and ventured up country to where they don't speak the English correctly, bloody up from country gits. We expected since the ungodly do not understand my driving it might be an idea to break our journey half way.

So being all Internet smart I had booked a overnight stop at a Travel lodge at Cribs Causeway near Bristol. Big mistake most uncomfortable nights sleep in years and that's saying something. The bed was so lumpy I told the wife that if that's what they put people up in then we do not need a new one at home, I got slapped.

Well this morning we woke up both with more aches and pains than normal and muggins had to drive the rest of the way up to Blackpool. Bugger me the speed they silly buggers drive at on the motorways. Tis suicidal, it scares me and I don't mind saying I'm not looking forward to the trip home. But I am wondering.

The Satnav took us direct to the hotel that we are staying at in Blackpool, not a problem. Then this evening I thought let's a be clever, we are only here for a few days. Lets go and have a look at the lights tonight.

Great, go and see the BLACKPOOL ILLUMINATIONS, THEY ARE WELL WORTH IT. however don't rely on the bloody Satnav to get you back to the hotel it has already taken you to once.

Because the black hearted, no mothers son, bitching, moronic, shit faced bit of plastic decided it had done enough work for the day and sent us five something miles in the wrong direction.

Even after I had reset it and put the postcode in again. No, off on our travels we went again and again.

Yes in the end after a couple of complete resets it did get us back to the hotel but not in time for dinner. So we had to make do with some greasy chips.


- only you will know, is it worth bothering?