Snakes in the grass (and the shed).

I have just had a reminder about why I prefer indoor pursuits, such as reading and blogging.  While feeding the horses I saw the biggest, blackest snake lying on the floor of the feed shed, just waiting for an unwary rodent (or me) to appear.  I didn't have a weapon to hand and in the few minutes it took to shriek, tie up the dog and locate a brick it had disappeared back into its hole.

Since I am now confined to quarters until I feel calmer I will offer up a few ponderings regarding a different sort of snake in the grass; the unscrupulous salesperson or the shonky repairman.  The person who will happily take your money without fulfilling their obligation to you by providing the service or product for which you have paid.

When faced with situations such as these my preferred weapon of choice is not the brick but the pen, used to write a pithy letter of complaint.  I love the swooshing sound as the email fires off. I'm not all about bad news though, I also write appreciative letters when everything is great!

 

Could it be a coincidence though that the older I get the less things seem to be great?  I try to have a grateful heart but in the face of some people's incompetency it is very difficult.  My pet peeve at the moment is when someone tells you it is, "Too easy," and then proceed to stuff it up.

 

Never mind, I am deep breathing about that and my refund cheque is apparently winging its way to my bank account even as we speak.  What concerns me most is that all these irritations are manageable for me now because I have a reasonable quantity of my wits about me and I have not yet disappeared quietly under the invisibility cloak that seemingly enshrouds older people, particularly women, from view.

 

Recently I read an inspiring article about a war veteran aged 92 who had been arrested while protesting about the coal mining.

 

 

http://www.smh.com.au/environment/92yearold-digger-arrested-in-protest-20140331-35u0x.html

 

"I'll continue to protest for as long as I can walk," he said.
"After that, they'll have to push me along in a wheelchair."

I admire his passion, I find it difficult to sustain but the words of Winston Churchill ring in my ears:

"Never give in--never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy."

All credit to Winston and Mr Ryan but not everyone is physically, mentally or supported by family or friends to be able to take action about the injustices that litter the path of daily life and I think some people count on that.  They hope that if they stonewall for long enough the rightly disgruntled complainant will go away and then they won't have to bother rectifying, reimbursing or making restitution.

Not everyone is battle hardened either as was the 92 year old Digger.  Luckily for me I come from hardy stock.  My own dear mother who has spent no time on the front lines was recently forced to take action against the car service centre who had replaced her windscreen wiper blades at the time of the last service.  The old blades worked perfectly so it was a surprise to her that they needed to go.  The new ones caused an irritating knocking sound and her irritation was compounded by the new blade's failure to remove water along the entire length of the blade.   She politely took the car back to them on four separate occasions only to be told that in the bloke's estimation there was nothing wrong and/or they could do nothing about it.  Feeling annoyed and patronised galvanised her into action and she organised a one woman sit in at their premises.

"Katherine," she said, "I was not leaving until they fixed it."  Confronted by the septuagenarian with the unshakable resolve the fellow responsible for the buggered blade backed down and replaced it.

My heart swelled with pride at this news because I knew my mum hated doing this. Confronting someone is not easy, especially if they are treating you like a halfwit.