You may not believe this, but within an hour of posting yesterdays entry I received three requests
to e-mail photos of the cat. Two were for ex-wives and one for a boss. I was wondering what I should send to someone whose
ex-wife is also their boss as the beast wandered into view. Two more requests and they can have a leg each.
Anyway, the cat is not the focus of my attention today but rather that most British of subjects:
the weather.
It was fucking freezing.
Consequently it wasn’t the best of days for the central heating to break down.
I was happily sat down trawling through the Internet to find a few stocking fillers for Mrs.
Snowman when a very loud bang came from somewhere in the direction of the boiler. My first thought was that the mother-in-law
had fallen out of her coffin but I soon discarded that idea when she appeared uninjured at the door. Instead, something unfathomable
within the workings of the system had decided to malfunction leaving no hot water and more importantly no heat.
A telephone call to a local heating engineer secured his services but we were obviously not
the only ones afflicted with such a problem as he was unable to attend until the following afternoon.
An evening curled up in front of the television with several layers of clothing beckoned, but
with every cloud there is usually a silver lining attached.
The mother-in-law and Mrs. Snowman looked like they were off on an expedition to the North
Pole and with so many items wrapped around themselves it restricted their movements to a series of stilted head movements
and pained glances.
They both did their best to heat the room by occasionally lifting a buttock and loosing off
the odd fart but their efforts were largely erroneous. One was so loud it woke up the cat.
However, the silver lining came in the welcome form of their inability to talk. Mrs.
Snowman had on a jogging top with the hood up and zipped to her nostrils. She looked like a large clam while the mother-in-law
resembled the invisible man with so many scarves around her head I was in the fortunate position of being unable to see her
face.
It was the quietest evening I’ve spent in ages.
If this is the price I have to pay for an evening of peace and quiet, I’m tempted to
cancel the boiler repair and take a hammer to it instead. I might die of frostbite but at least my demise will be filled with
serenity.
Today’s poker was far less frosty than the weather. I managed to exceed yesterday’s
placement by a single position and finished 58th in the $500 freeroll, earning the handsome prize of $1.87. Even
though I still intend to play the freerolls for a while, I shall have another stab at the 1c/2c tables tomorrow in a very
ill advised attempt to increase my meagre bankroll by a decent percentage.
Expect Snowman’s ego to melt into a puddle sometime over the next day or so.
I decided to forego the midnight tournament and get an early night instead. The reason for
my unusually keen desire to get a good night’s sleep?…Mrs. Snowman has insisted we put up the Christmas decorations.
If it’s anything like last year’s disaster I could easily end up strangling her with am length of tinsel.
I’ll keep you posted of developments.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $7.67
