29/9/2016

Flippin’ eventful evening and  morning then. The following has occurred:

  • got a tutor at last
  • been nominated for #bestonthenet for a story I wrote for Molotov Cocktail
  • had a mahoosive leak in the wee house which has taken out all the overhead lights and the cooker and the heating.

I’m sitting in a dark corner therefore, quite warm because its a warm day, writing this before I go to buy a fan heater to dry the kitchen ceiling out.

Here’s what happened leak-wise: Harry hurt his wrist playing rugby last night and late on, at tennish, had a bath to soak his weary bones. He filled the rickerty- old-bath-that’s-been-there-these-forty-years, tip-top full of water and muscle soak, climbed his not unsubstantial self there-in and soaked for sixty seconds.

Remember this house is teeny weeny if not insey-winsey, so I heard the crackle and rush coming from the kitchen very clearly from the sitting room and shouted up to check he hadn’t left the tap running. He didn’t reply because he had his head under the water. All at once there was a huge swoosh and the water cascaded through the kitchen ceiling, right over the three gang of spotlights in the middle of the ceiling. As I looked up everything went dark.

After running round getting towels, emptying the bath, lighting candles etc. etc., we realised only half the lecky was out – all the lights, the cooker, the wifi but not the sockets upstairs or half in the kitchen – enough to boil a kettle and run the microwave and, blessing-of-blessings, run an extension cable to the wifi. (This was what the boys where most traumatised by the loss of.)

Been on the phone all morning to my Dad who’s coming to stay next Tuesday. He’s got loads of experience with flooding through light fittings as it turns out, and he reckons that the best course of action is to fan dry the ceiling with an electric heater then, when its dry, to try flicking the fuse that saved us, back on. Have no idea where the fuse box is. Suspect its in the loft – the place I never go due to decades of dust and asthma so that’s not happening any time soon. Off therefore to Tesco to buy a fan heater and a couple of clip on lamps.  Dad reckons the seal on the bath must have broken. I’ve had loads of baths but only run a few inches of water not several feet and there’s nothing showing upstairs so I reckon he’s right. That won’t be cheap I daresay because the bath has no removable panels and is tongue and grooved in, so all that’ll have to come off I expect to rectify/find the leak.

Back in the dry, I Googled my tutor to check her credentials which took a while because of her pen name, but luckily I’m quite skilled in on-line stalking and tracked her down.  She looks pretty good so am prematurely pleased whether or not I have a reason to be.

Super-pleased to be nominated for best on the net though. Don’t care if I win or not. Being nominated is a win in itself. (This is an obvious lie so please feel free to suspend your disbelief.)

Right have much to do – free-writing, the penultimate chapter in A363, house drying and all before 4.30pm because tonight me and the girls are going to revisit our youths watching the Bay City Rollers live (only just probably) in St Ives. Taxi coming at 6.45 so need to be home for then so this blogging must stop.

 

 

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