Teeth out - cooker in

My father used to have an expression "I have had all my teeth out and a new cooker put in" - I think it went back to an old joke or even a Goons' sketch but it has stuck with me as many family sayings do. Anyway my teeth are not causing problems but Bodybuilder has had a new gas cooker added to the flat. My part of N London seems much better served with decent supplies of second hand things than our posh bit of Essex and I was able to find him quite a good one at a reasonable price. "Cash?" I asked the man, implying that I assumed he took neither cheques nor credit cards, but his response was more friendly and he knocked 15% off. "Are we delivering it?" he said but I declined as I am sure he had anticipated just round the corner, not a 60 mile round trip. The sad thing is (for my pocket at least) that it has cost more to have it fitted than it did to buy it in the first place but at least we do have the reassurance of the gas man having thoroughly checked it over and pronounced it "in sound working order and a good deal". So much for Bodybuilder, Mrs Claus and I are currently having a meaningful debate over whether we can afford a bar of chocolate - from her perspective calories and from mine, pounds of an entirely different nature.
Workwise has been a personnel manager's nightmare so I guess it is just as well we haven't got one, only me. Last Thursday we interviewed 3 candidates for a new managerial post, one that for a variety of reasons is politically very sensitive and really requires a female, Greek Cypriot, PT trained coach with NVQ4 in care (With extra LD module) who drives and doesn't mind working 14 hour days. Needless to say we failed to appoint but the candidates were so inadequate that I was able to vent considerable spleen in letters of complaint to the recruitment agencies. That said, one of the candidates was so good in other respects but totally inappropriate in management that we just had to create a job for him to bring some quality into the team. Just a bit of a shock when he came for interview as a physical development coach walking with the aid of a pair of crutches. It says something for the great care with which the agency vets its candidates and matches them with the client's criteria that when we offered him a different job at £7,000 less than the advertised salary he bit our hand off and couldn't wait to start - ambulatory issues notwithstanding
My new manager,on the other hand, seems at the opposite extreme and is desperate to put two of his staff on disciplinary action pending instant dismissal (his or theirs I am not sure which). Actually he is very good but does remind me of someone closer to home, being very dogmatic in his approach, legalistic, always right but not necessarily wishing to sue everyone in sight. (readers draw your own conclusions)
Jetski Boy has started driving lessons (or have I told you that before?). Terry says he is good but I wonder if he just says that to make paying less painful. Mind you he has a very good record of success with getting young gentlemen through their tests and at £19/hour is, I suspect, a lot cheaper than many instructors from the larger companies. Even so, I am not sure what I am getting for my money when after 3 lessons Jetski Boy tells me that "next week we start on real roads"
One of the problems writing the blog in this panel is that I cannot see what has gone before and my memory not being what it was (was it ever) there are times when I cannot recall whether I have told you things before. Be patient dear reader, all will become clear in time. Mr Claus has been asked to return to the Grotto. The elves of Lakeside have written several times under the pseudonym of Fiona asking me to return to my old haunts and having failed to elicit a positive response they then arranged to telephone me all the way from Lapland to ask if I would don the old red suit and beard again. I have to tell you reader that I was sorely tempted. The opportunity to sit in a cramped box, illuminated by halogen lamps and camera flash and be a climbing frame for sticky children was almost too much to resist, but resist I did. So don't be fooled, if you go down to Lakeside this winter and see some old man in a red suit sitting in a grotto, it is an imposter as the real Mr Claus will be stuck on the M25, sans reindeer, trying to get to the day job.
Mind you the day job might be a bit sticky in its own right for a while. The Trust Mees have been promising the service users a new minibus for some time and as requested I had arranged a full range of options on contract hire which seemed the most sensible option, declaring revenue expenditure, upping visible unit cost, all that sort of thing when Trust Mee J said that was not the way to go and that even if the installments looked good value you often got stung on return at the end of the contract period - several little scratches becoming a complete respray for instance. How does he know this you ask - well he used to be a rep collecting ex contract hire vehicles for LDV (which I understand is now part owned by the Russian Oligarch trying to ruin the Bullingdon Boy). We want to BUY one they said - we have a legacy coming in. Telling your Trust Mees that they are like children in a sweet shop with a shiny new shilling is perhaps not a good career move!