The Heat is On

As with the rest of my sorry saga of the broken boiler, today didn’t start off particularly smoothly. Readers will concur that people such as heating engineers generally turn up at around 8am to begin their work. 8am came and went, but nobody showed up. By 9.30am I could bear it no longer, and called the plumbing company. The second-in-command, Tom, answered. After 20 minutes of trying to track down the chap who was supposed to be coming, Tom phoned back and said he would come and do the installation himself. And so I now have heating and hot water once more (hurrah), though Tom hasn’t been able to put in the pipe work to run into the drain outside. There is a bucket on the floor of the cupboard as a temporary measure to catch the dribble of condensed water which trickles out when the central heating clicks on. As I’m driving a friend to hospital early on Monday, waiting while she has her treatment done then taking her home, the job will most likely be completed on Tuesday. I’m told it will take a couple of hours to run the exterior pipe work. It is what it is. I can’t be bothered to get cross about it any more.

The little Tête-à-Tête narcissi in the garden are at their peak. I gave these to Mum and Dad years ago flowering in a pot, and when they had finished blooming Dad planted them out. They come up beautifully every year, a cheerful reminder of the three of us being together here.

And now, on to getting the tumble dryer fixed…