Today's edition of "Where Do They Find the Time?" comes courtesy of my weekly e-mail from the Advertising Standards Authority:
A TV ad for Moben Kitchens included large onscreen text at the beginning and end of the ad which said "Möben" with two dots above the ‘o’ which looked like an umlaut.
A viewer complained that the umlaut implied Moben was a German company which was misleading.
I don't know who's more at fault - the people who waste their lives making these complaints, or me who sits there and reads them.
But anyhoo, here's a scene from my afternoon out...
The worried-looking figure in the jaunty cap is Lisa. Well, it would be if I'd actually stopped and taken a photo, like *I* wanted, rather than being forced to save her life, which was Lisa's preferred option. So instead of a genuine photo, this is a highly accurate reconstruction. Although in reality there was more blood.
Anyway, having barely been out on foot since last Wednesday when Lisa fell over visiting my old school, it seemed high time she got back on that horse (especially as she can't ride a bike), so after a leisurely lunch at the Oyster Reach, I decided to take her to the Orwell Country Park for a gentle stroll. Fortunately the Oyster Reach are still refusing to serve oysters (though they did serve us), which is just as well because Lisa's second cousin went to Jamie Oliver's restaurant for her birthday last week, ordered the oysters, and had to be rushed to hospital with food poisoning. We did laugh. Or maybe that was just me.
So after a couple of Angus Burgers (didn't he play for Germany in the 1966 World Cup?) we headed down the road to the peace and tranquility of the Orwell Country Park. Which is next to a dual carriageway, behind a Little Chef. Following the coastal path overlooking the river, Lisa was soon struck by the beauty of the calm waters below, started to say how relaxing it all was, and promptly walked over the edge of the cliff. I don't think it was deliberate, but there is a free hotline to the Samaritans on the Orwell Bridge, so she wouldn't have been the first.
Anyhoo, the first I knew about it was when I heard a shriek, turned around, and saw two hands and a forehead poking over the clifftop. My natural reaction was to immediately haul her back up to safety - a decision I've been regretting ever since, when I realised what a great photo it would have made. And to be fair, the drop was only about ten feet, so she'd probably have survived.
But fortunately Lisa's ok. Although that's now two pairs of jeans she's got covered in mud, and she's costing me a fortune in Elastoplast. She also needs to clean her boots after scrabbling at the cliff face like a startled rabbit trying to climb Watership Down. It was really very sweet. Although her look of desperate panic detracted slightly from the overall charm of the situation. Needless to say we'll be driving everywhere in future.