Have abandoned The Blethers and come to the misty East (why does a lovely summer day have to end like a scene from "Hound of the Baskervilles"?) where I can play on my hosts' PC without feeling pressured to deal with my mail and go!
The saga of Demon and the Blethers continues with the thrilling development of actually talking to a native English speaker who managed to hold a few words of unscripted conversation with Mr B. The burden of his message was that he had no words suitable to react to the way we'd been dealt with. There seemed a suggestion that a refund might be in the offing also. But nothing will happen till at least Monday now, so I'll stop worrying. I always remember someone pointing out to me that hope was much less trying than despair, so I'm practising calm despair for now.
And perhaps that's a suitable frame of mind for Synod ...
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