Politics and the Pitfalls of Modern Technology

So, I've been asked to write a blog for Nailsea People. Why? I wondered the same thing but then I realised that my ability to confuse myself on a regular basis and constantly get myself into situations where I couldn't possibly get my foot any further into my mouth make for rather amusing reading!

I'll start by telling you a little about myself- I'm 24 and recently married. My husband and I live in Nailsea with our mad cat who has a penchant for climbing curtains and leaping in the washing machine at every opportunity. Fortunately, I've gotten into the habit of checking before I set it to a spin cycle!

The most notable thing that has happened over the last 7 days was undoubtedly the General Election - something that was a source of great drama in this house. While I had my hopes firmly pinned on a Conservative government, my husband insisted on adorning our front windows with Liberal Democrat posters, hoping that anyone who walked past would be inspired to get behind Brian Mathew. Having read an article in a newspaper the week previously about the "dangers" of not sharing political affiliaton with your significant other, I was concerned that as the weeks rumbled on we would end up at a similar state of loggerheads as our political figures.

This didn't happen until 4am on election night. We had done so well. As the results came in, and it became obvious we were heading for a hung parliament, my hubby sat on the sofa with a contented smile that made me silently fume. His party was in the most commanding position they had been in years, and he knew it. He extended his hand to me (so formal) and wanted to be very civil about the whole thing. So I put a Wotsit up his nose.

The day after the election, we went to have drinks with the in-laws. Always good fun and I am very lucky to have in-laws I get on with so well. As we were chatting, my father-in-law grinned at me and said: "I got your email." I was perplexed. I couldn't remember sending him an email recently and had no idea what he was talking about. My mind cast back to a rather odd email I'd had from our estate agent asking me to remove him from my "mailing list". I don't have a mailing list.

A bit of digging later on and I soon discovered that some kind soul had successfully got in to my email account and sent my father-in-law, our estate agent, and my husband's boss emails offering them cut price Viagra. Yes, Viagra. More worrying was that the general consensus seemed to be not that I had some kind of virus, but that I had indeed set up a side business dealing in sexual enhancers. Don't worry Mum, I haven't.

One very red face and a lot of explaining later I was back home lamenting email gremlins and the complexities of modern technology!

We are currently in the process of selling our house and buying another one. As everyone knows, this is a stressful time as it is but my special approach has lead me to make it at least 100 times harder. It got off to a good start when our cat mounted the esate agent on the first visit. Then I managed to smack myself round the head with the hoover pipes in an attempt to remove dust particles from the carpet from the wrong angle. The ultimate embarrassment came when I burnt my backside with bleach after forgetting to wipe down the toilet seat after yet another pre viewing clean. Then I managed to change the language on the washing machine. I have absolutely no idea how I managed to, but new washing machines are so complicated I half expect ours to wish me 'good morning' and offer to pour me a coffee. I might be onto something there.

Still, my spin cycle should "unud" soon. (Indonesian apparently).

Perhaps I will become more adept in time?!

Until next time....

Mrs Davies.

I have come to the conclusion that housework is infact, rather dangerous.