Laurel and Hardy

The piano arrived a short while ago. I was disappointed that the movers weren't Laurel and Hardy. They did the job swiftly and efficiently and departed before I could get the kettle boiled for a cup of tea. I thought we'd get a bit of the old music hall routine.

"Did you know the piano's on my foot?"

"No, but if you hum it, I'll play along."

My Beloved is crying off Her writer's group tonight to play with Her new toy. This is a source of some angst to me. I normally have some bloke food on these evenings. You know the sort of thing - kebabs, anything deep fried, a very cheap pie and a huge pile of chips or a fat lad's breakfast. This is known as a Heart Attack on a Plate. Instead, we'll have a bit of shepherd's pie which She made yesterday.

I'll go and have the delayed cup of tea and perhaps a sausage sandwich with a a bit of bacon, and a side order of chips and black pudding. Or maybe not.

Pianolessness

Yes, we have no piano. The van delivering it has died. RIP the van. The piano is currently inside the van which is having its last rites at something called the Truck Centre. Not the Van Centre. Oh, no. I don't think that's quite manly enough.

So, I have informed my Beloved but She hasn't yet replied.

I spent most of yesterday evening browsing other blogs. All life is here. I had no idea that Christina Aguillera (sp?) had a blog here. If only I had known earlier.

I've added a photo. It's gruesome I know, but the truth will out. Perhaps I should have chosen that as the title for my blog. Too late. It's probably not even true itself. I mean it's not true that the truth will out. It is true however that it's not really funny.

I'm waiting in today for our piano to arrive. My Beloved wanted an indoor hobby which wasn't writing so She decided that She'd take up the piano again. She used to play a long time ago. We spent some time clearing almost enough space for it in the living room. We'll see later today if we've done enough.

I'll let you know.