Hot to trot

Or not.


After an early visit from the bringer of doom gas man to service the boiler, he got a bit sticker-happy and condemned everything of the gas-run variety in the house. He wasn't happy with the boiler cupboard, he said my flue needed some attending, he said something about the hob, by which time I'd stopped listening and when I went into the living room later I saw he'd put paid to romantic nights in front of the coal fire by adding a scary hangy ticket.

Mind you, given the astronomical cost of gas, it's unlikely I would have been turning it on anyway.

Apart from that, had a lovely day catching up with a uni friend from the dark ages, which confirmed to me that we don't really age at all, just get a wee bit wrinklier.