For yonks I have been resistant to the idea of those things that most men seem to long for , namely a Big Fat telly with a Big Fat Plasma Screen that they can glue themselves to and Watch other men kick balls at .
Mainly I have been resistant for reasons that make perfect sense to me , but not apparently to anyone else , namely that we have several perfectly good tellies , spread about the other rooms in the house , one in most of the rooms where people congregate or sleep ( though I have always refused to have one near where I myself sleep) and an extra one for good measure just in case. Since tellies do blow up with alarming frequency most of ours now seem to be of the required flat screen variety too , though of late the cry " but they are not Plasma" has become an issue , whatever this means ( nothing much to me, fortunately, since I now earn less and less) and I see people scanning my expression for signs of change when I am confronted with such examples in John Lewis or indeed glancing through their friends' windows.
But , despite today starting much as usual , at six am with a pot of coffee and a fairytale four inches of snow , it ends in defeat .
I CatCall on foot and all is well with the world . Indeed Star and Pip seem to know their family is back today and come down with me to help me wash up and prepare their food for the first visit of the fortnight , Pip happily pottering and Star moodily standing blocking the exit to the cat flap .The snow falls fatly outside and I watch wondering how the roads will be . I have left my car at home as the slush has frozen solid .
Later , after Alice makes it plain she is not keen to go far , D disappears and I know my time is up . I head off again on foot , and when I return an hour later , with a few pathetic paperbacks from the library , there intruding into the room is a 32 inch biggin . My feeble protest is lost .
