Icy fingers and headphones

It's 8 degrees Centigrade in the room where I am writing this. That's about 45 degrees F. The surface of my desk feels as if it's just come out of the fridge. I am wearing socks, furry purple slippers, sea-green velvet tracksuit bottoms, a zip-up hoody and a fleecy gilet. I am frozen. And I am not allowed to have the heating on as Mr G says the total bills for last year amounted to £2,000. I paid half. I wouldn't mind paying three-quarters if I could just be warm.

When I am cold all day, I feel miserable, tired, grouchy and under par. My brain feels torpid and my whole body feels as if it is sliding into hibernation mode. Yesterday, I visited the 97-year-old neighbour on one side to help her open a cupboard, then later I took some home-baked jammy coconut buns round to the neighbours on the other side (the man who nearly died in the motorbike accident). He is now allowed home at weekends but in the week goes back to Stoke Mandeville to continue his physio and rehabilitation. The point of this story is not to say what a good neighbour I am but to say that I lingered as long as possible in each house - because they were so lovely and warm.

I have known Mr G and his house for 14 years. I have suffered six winters living here full-time and each time I stick my head out of my frozen burrow to blink at the spring sunshine, like a grouchy ginger Liverpudlian groundhog, I vow 'never again, by next winter I will have moved out'. But once again, I haven't managed it. I must admit a Travel Lodge seems a most enticing option. Wonder how much they charge for Internet access? I could leave Mr G in his igloo and pay him fleeting visits to pick up my mail and cuddle the cats. Yesterday, I caught him with a cat stuffed inside his fleece jacket. I think I've rumbled his method of keeping warm. It wouldn't work for me. Too much cat between me and the computer keyboard. But still, it works better than a hot water bottle and is very eco-friendly. Or should that be eeek-o? That's all poor old Flad can say, as he was born with a meow by-pass.

Now for another grumble. The perils of buying on Ebay. I paid for some specialist headphones for use with my digital piano (also bought on Ebay and another story entirely). I haven't touched my keyboard since it arrived on Wednesday as I am so out of practice, I wanted to play silently, using the headphones, until I had re-learned a few numbers. The headphones arrived yesterday, I hacked my way into the packaging, took them out and... whaaaat? They were designed to be worn by a pointy-headed alien with ears on his temples. I tugged and tweaked but they wouldn't extend. I tried wearing them round my neck with the ear muff bits pointing upwards, I clamped them round the back of my head but they just slid off.

I looked at the invoice. It said No Returns. They must know damn well that the things are useless, made for Japanese three-year-olds or something. I have emailed them telling them exactly what I think of their product. I bet I don't get a reply. If by some miracle I do, I shall let you know, but right now I'm off to Argos to buy some adult-sized ones that fit around grown-up heads and female hair.