Scrimping and saving, ranting and raving. Past retirement age.
Wednesday, 16 November 2016
My 2nd favourite form of relaxation
After six stressful phone calls dealing with idiots and incompetents I'm listening to Beethoven's Ode to joy, full blast! Well I would indulge in my most favourite relaxation, but then I wouldn't have my hands free to type!
You are not alone. Recently I had a phone conversation with someone's sttecretary who assured me that I was not who I thought I was. Oh, good. I quite fancy being someone else.
The music master at my last school was rehearsing the School orchestra. "Today," he said, "we will be learning a piece by Beethoven called 'Ode to Joy'. Small girl shoots her hand into the air. "Please sir, we have to call her Mrs C****"
For evermore in that school it was called, 'Beethoven's Ode to Mrs C****'
Part of todays phone calls included such gems as we need to see your wedding certificate as photo ID, there are no photo's on certificates and we need your bank card to confirm your signature. Bank card!! I have a debit card but there is no signature on it I use a pin number!
Joy's comment here had me laughing out loud, really laughing. Yes, Ode to Mrs C indeed! This reminds me of when I was a child. My dear late uncle who, with my grandfather, lived with my parents and myself (this wasn't unusual in those days) would kick-start Christmas Day by playing the carol Christians Awake! on the piano. He was a very good pianist, and my mother, father, uncle and granddad would all sing ... "Christian's Awake, salute the happy morn ..." but when it came to the line "Rise to adore the mystery of love," I always wondered what rice was doing at a door? Not quite as funny as Ode to Mrs C, and of course, these days, Christians Awake! isn't a carol one hears very often or, indeed, at all. Margaret P
Until I left home every Christmas morning began with my dear Dad marching along the landing singing, loudly and untunefully, Christians awake salute the happy morn, and banging on bedroom doors.
This was exciting when we were children. More than slightly less so when we were teenagers.
6 comments:
You are not alone. Recently I had a phone conversation with someone's sttecretary who assured me that I was not who I thought I was. Oh, good. I quite fancy being someone else.
The music master at my last school was rehearsing the School orchestra.
"Today," he said, "we will be learning a piece by Beethoven called 'Ode to Joy'.
Small girl shoots her hand into the air.
"Please sir, we have to call her Mrs C****"
For evermore in that school it was called, 'Beethoven's Ode to Mrs C****'
How lovely Joy, children are so funny.
Part of todays phone calls included such gems as we need to see your wedding certificate as photo ID, there are no photo's on certificates and we need your bank card to confirm your signature.
Bank card!! I have a debit card but there is no signature on it I use a pin number!
Hester, are you sure you are who you claim to be? Geeeez!, Questions like those enumerated would have ME very confused, even on a good day.
Joyce
photos on marriage certificates?? what country are you calling??
Joy's comment here had me laughing out loud, really laughing. Yes, Ode to Mrs C indeed! This reminds me of when I was a child. My dear late uncle who, with my grandfather, lived with my parents and myself (this wasn't unusual in those days) would kick-start Christmas Day by playing the carol Christians Awake! on the piano. He was a very good pianist, and my mother, father, uncle and granddad would all sing ... "Christian's Awake, salute the happy morn ..." but when it came to the line "Rise to adore the mystery of love," I always wondered what rice was doing at a door? Not quite as funny as Ode to Mrs C, and of course, these days, Christians Awake! isn't a carol one hears very often or, indeed, at all.
Margaret P
Gallant.
Until I left home every Christmas morning began with my dear Dad marching along the landing singing, loudly and untunefully, Christians awake salute the happy morn, and banging on bedroom doors.
This was exciting when we were children. More than slightly less so when we were teenagers.
I do miss him.
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