Well, first, apologies. To the few people who actually read my blog, for my abysmal lack of the written word. I have had trauma. I have been flooded. I have bare boards in my hall, on my stairs and in my lounge.
It all started when we had a cold evening. I took the plunge and put the central heating on.
Who knew?
A couple of hours (three and a half actually) later I got up from the couch to lock the front door before we turned in for bed, and stood in a puddle. 'BAD DOG!' I said crossly, as you do. The dog looked hurt. As I proceeded out to the hallway I realised this was a 'big' puddle, the animal has some serious problem, I considered. It was only when I ascertained that the 'puddle' stetched all accross my lounge, down the hallway and up the first two stairs that I began to think the dog might be innocent after all.
The radiator pipe had split.
A strange thing, but it seems it is only at times like this that you realise some odd little quirks about the place you call home. It appears that in some houses the mechanism with which you are able to turn off the water supply is, in fact, OUTSIDE the premises. Not only is it outside, but it is, conveniently, approximately three feet down a hole which has a three inch circumferance. To operate this igenious mechanism, you need a common or garden metal rod with a triangular shape on the end. Guess what I'd forgotten to pick up in Tesco's?
Well, suffice to say, 'the man' came the next day. He shook his head, he sucked his teeth, he went away for a hour and a half to that mysterious shop, the one where all tradesman have to go to buy anything they need to fix a problem with your property - obviously not available at the hardware store accross the road.
I spent several glorious hours, pulling up sodden carpet and underlay, in a freezing house, and a couple more trying to prevent either of my two cats disappearing down the cavernous hole that 'the man' informed me he had to make in my hall, to get at the pipework. How we laughed.
Presently, we are finishing off re-painting the hallway and stairs, in preparation for my nice new carpet to be laid.
Maybe by then the dog will have forgiven me.
