Water, Water Everywhere

Some of you have kindly enquired about the home improvements. We are still tackling a final leak in the conservatory but it really is nearly finished. The trouble is with testing the efficacy of leak mending is that you need it to rain! A slight diversion last week however as I came down in the morning to find water pouring and I do mean pouring, through the kitchen ceiling. Yes that would be the kitchen ceiling that had just been painted. Stopcock turned off and the water slows to a trickle. Emergency plumber, bless him, arrives within the hour. He decides it is a problem between the water tank and the bathroom. He needs access to the pipe. Sadly also between the water tank and the bathroom are two bedrooms, containing between them twelve full height, crammed bookcases, to say nothing of other things and the carpets have to come up. Spring cleaning these rooms hadn’t been on the ‘to do’ list but most of the contents are moved to gain access to the recalcitrant pipe.

This incident coincides with the saga of the parcel. I am tracking its whereabouts on the internet. To be fair the first time they tried to deliver it I wasn’t in. It is rescheduled for the following day. As I am moving the contents of the two bedrooms I have things to do so staying in isn’t a hardship. I am at home, the front door is open, the back door is open. Strange then that the tracking tells me that they have tried to deliver the parcel at 3.15 and I wasn’t in. I ring the firm and explain that I was indeed in. I acknowledge that my house isn’t easy to find and provide a phone number so the driver can ring for assistance when he arrives in the village. 5.40 and the tracking says they have tried to deliver it again and I wasn’t in! I ring again, more assertively now. There is no note of my phone number on the paperwork. I give the phone number again and instructions on ‘how to find my house’ (park outside the Methodist Church) and also ‘how not to find my house’ (do not pay any attention to the Sat Nav). The receptionist is not impressed that my address contains no road name; this is clearly somehow my fault.

The next day dawns, this is not a day when I had planned to stay at home but I do. Finally I get a call from the delivery man. He, like others of his ilk, is incapable of identifying a Methodist church when he sees one (clue – it says ‘Methodist Church’ outside) and is parked up the road outside the Anglican church. I walk up to relieve him of the parcel and explain where he should have been. It turns out that he has been trying to deliver to the house over the road. He seems to have identified a property, with no apparent name or number, in roughly the right area and has gone for it. Obviously asking at the heavily signposted, nearby shop was not a possibility. Never mind he says I know where it is now. In the next sentence he tells me he only has another week in the job. So I am fine for future deliveries from this firm for the next week only. I didn’t ask if his new job required initiative of any kind.



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