This week was marginally better than last week on the chaos scale. I actually thought I’d got it all over and done with on Monday as the size of the chaos that evening was quite big. I got home to hear a dripping in the conservatory gutter, realised that with bone dry ground it hadn’t rained here all day and had a sudden feeling I should check the water tank in my loft. It turned out that the ball cock had completely drowned and the water level was just a few centimetres below the top of the tank. It was about 30 minutes away from overflowing and flooding Pog Towers.
I got a fixer man out on Tuesday. Just before he arrived the shower fixer man turned up to fix the previous Mondays chaos. We made slightly awkward small talk at the foot of my bed (you get into the loft from there) and then he clutched his chest and did some panicked breathing. My first instinct was ‘this is going to be different to stick insect CPR – he’s quite a big chap’, then I realised that Norman decending from the top of the wardrobe on his left was what had caused the reaction. Phew. Kind of.
Anyway, he fixed the shower, RobRoyRon fixed the tank (I’m never sure which of those are his name, so I use them all) and I now have a shower that works properly and can leave the mains water turned on. Peace was restored. Until Wednesday…
Sister 2 likes cleaning and is good at it. I hate cleaning and am rubbish at it. So I pay her to do my cleaning and everyone is happy. On Wednesday when I was at work and Sister 2 was making Pog Towers look all shiny, she sent me this in a text message:
Despite giving Dad back his stick insects on Sunday, it turns out one had decided to stay. He is now in a mug in my airing cupboard with some bramble leaves. He will be repatriated this Sunday. I just hope he’s the last. :o)