Good morning on a thoroughly, thoroughly, miserable day. The rain is sheeting down and the wind is blowing small animals across the landscape. And all this following a fairly similarly depressing week, weather wise; gale force winds and lashings of rain most days (apart from Tuesday, I think, which was gloriously sunny before the next band of rain and wind swept in).

Why are insurance companies generally such crooks? You will recollect our “disaster” with the shower above the “library” and our delight when the insurance assessor agreed to write-off the value of the carpet. So, I suppose we shouldn’t really complain when the amount we receive in compensation is just about sufficient to lay a new carpet (with underlay, admittedly) in a doll’s house. Our policy gives us “like for like” coverage so one might imagine that means that we would be able to replace the carpet with one which is of a similar quality and shade. When the assessment eventually came through it was for something in the region of £380. Fine if a little bit on the low side but we should be able to get something suitable for that amount. Of course we have a £75 deduction but again, that’s fair enough. So, finally we receive not a cheque for £305 but, instead, a mandate which is only valid at a number of carpet chains. When Ms Playchute investigates she discovers that the carpets sold at these national establishments are about 25% more expensive than an independent local supplier. No problem, one assumes, simply request a cheque for £305 which we can use with our local supplier. And therein lies the problem – we can indeed have a cheque instead of a mandate but the cheque will be for £260 rather than £305 and, when one enquires, it turns out that the national chain gives the insurance company a 15% discount. But, the carpet we wish to purchase is 25% more expensive so we end up being out of pocket if we use the national chain whereas the insurance company ends up paying less. How can that be right? Well, let me assure you that, in the rules which apply in insurance land, it is not only right but apparently perfectly normal behaviour on the part of all insurance companies (or so we are told after two very lengthy and somewhat short-tempered “discussions”). So, I ask again, why are insurance companies generally such crooks?

We are in the finishing straight in the painting and decorating sweepstakes which Ms Playchute began after the shower calamity. Of course, I really should say “she” is in the finishing straight as I have had virtually nothing to do with any of it. You will remember that, somewhat bizarrely, although it was the “dressing room” which was damaged by the flood, she decided to start with our bedroom which is, indeed, finished and which looks fantastically opulent. Then, she started on the dressing room which is now almost finished; the carpet layer comes on Monday or Tuesday and the only task which remains to do today, before they come, is to fit some “quick-release” handles on the panel covering the pipe work to the shower so that the next time it bursts loose we can extract it in a somewhat more expeditious fashion than we managed this time. Having said that, fitting handles will hopefully ensure that we don’t ever need to remove it again!

One of the reasons (apart from my generally lazy nature) that I have not been of any assistance whatsoever to Ms Playchute in the painting and decorating stakes is that this work has largely coincided with the Six Nations rugby competition which culminated yesterday. Again, I won’t spoil Sandy’s enjoyment other than to say that yesterday’s matches were perhaps the most enjoyable of the entire tournament. I even managed to engage Ms Playchute’s interest to some extent by offering a wager on the outcome of the three matches played yesterday; she picked one winner, I picked one winner and we both picked the loser of the other match so honours even.

And so, on to the NCAA tournament!

Love to you all,

Greg

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On vacation, a man and his wife check into a hotel. The husband wants to have a snack at the restaurant, but his wife is extremely tired so she decides to go on up to their room to rest.

She lies down on the bed... just then, a train passes by very close to the window and shakes the room so hard she's thrown out of the bed.

Thinking this must be a freak occurrence, she lies down once more. But just a few minutes later a train again shakes the room so violently, she's pitched to the floor.

Exasperated, she calls the front desk and asks for the manager who says he'll be right up.

The manager is sceptical but the wife insists the story is true.

"Look... lie here on the bed -- you'll be thrown right to the floor!" So he lies down next to the wife.

Just then the husband walks in. He takes one look at the manager lying in bed with his wife and yells, "Hey! What are you doing in here!?"

The manager calmly replies, "Would you believe I'm waiting for a train?"

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A man boarded an aircraft at London's Heathrow Airport for New York, and taking his seat as he settled in, he noticed a very beautiful woman boarding the plane. He realised she was heading straight toward his seat and bingo - she took the seat right beside him.

'Hello', he blurted out, 'Business trip or vacation?'

She turned, smiled enchantingly and said, 'Business. I'm going to the annual nymphomaniac convention in the United States.'

He swallowed hard. Here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen sitting next to him, and she was going to a meeting for nymphomaniacs!

Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked, 'What's your business role at this convention?'

'Lecturer,' she responded. 'I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality.'

'Really', he smiled, 'what myths are those?'

'Well,' she explained, 'one popular myth is that African-American men are the most well endowed when, in fact, it's the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the men of Greek descent. We have also found that the best potential lovers in all categories are the Irish.'

Suddenly the woman became uncomfortable and blushed. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I really shouldn't be discussing this with you, I don't even know your name!'

'Tonto,' the man said. 'Tonto Papadopoulos, but my friends call me Paddy.'

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I took my dad to the mall the other day to buy some new shoes.  We decided to grab a bite at the food court. I noticed he was watching a teenager sitting next to him. The teenager had spiked hair in all different colors: green, red, orange, and blue.     

My dad kept staring at him. The teenager would look and find him staring every time.

When the teenager had enough, he sarcastically asked, "What's the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?"

Knowing my Dad, I quickly swallowed my food so that I would not choke on his response; knowing he would have a good one. And in classic style he did not bat an eye in his response.

"Got drunk once and had sex with a peacock. I was just wondering if you were my son."

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A female CNN journalist heard about a very old Jewish man who had been going to the Western Wall to pray, twice a day, every day, for a long, long time. So she went to check it out. She went to the Western Wall and there he was, walking slowly up to the holy site. She watched him pray and after about 45 minutes, when he turned to leave, using a cane and moving very slowly, she approached him for an interview.

'Pardon me, sir, I'm Rebecca Smith from CNN.  'What's your name?'  

'Morris Fishbien,' he replied.

'Sir, how long have you been coming to the Western Wall and praying?'

For about 60 years.'

'60 years! That's amazing! What do you pray for?'

'I pray for peace between the Christians, Jews and the Muslims.' 'I pray for all the wars and all the hatred to stop.   'I pray for all our children to grow up safely as responsible adults, and to love their fellow man.'

'How do you feel after doing this for 60 years?'

'Like I'm talking to a f------g wall.'

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