Peter Rhodes on a space odyssey, a flint axe and victory over an electricity bill
A friend asked me (why me?) if I could value a stone age flint axe which has come into his possession. I went to eBay where an advert caught my eye: “Authentic stone age flint hand axe rare artifact for collectors and enthusiasts. 100 per cent genuine. Condition: new.”
My long-running spat with E.ON over strange deductions from my electricity account, and impenetrable statements, has ended with a £50 “complaint resolution” payment and the promise of a letter of apology. Whoopee.
The money has arrived but the promised letter has not, possibly proving the words of Elton's song: “sorry” seems to be the hardest word. Mind you, it's not as hard a word as that place in Wales, LlanfairpwllgwynyoustandbythesignwhileItakethephotogogogoch. Or for that matter, the blood-pressure medication, Bendroflumethiazide which is commonly prescribed but rarely remembered.
