The joys of home ownership

The good news is that the central heating is working fine.  The bad news is that the system isn't heating the water, so one's date with the bidet on Friday was something of a shock to the, er..., system.  We do have an electric alternative, fortunately, but it overheats the water, a fact for one's awareness of which the, er..., system is more than grateful.  The eponymous Mr Waterman spent a good few hours here yesterday trying to make sense of it, concluding that the problem lay with the box on the kitchen wall.  We expect him back here later this afternoon with new box and commensurate bill.

It's an ill wind.  Since the boiler cupboard has to be emptied before the excellent and eponymous Mr W can 'attend to me boilers!' [honorable mention to spotters of the quote], I took the opportunity to reinforce the U-shaped shelf on which we keep the cookery books: Delia, Pru, Nigella, Madhur, Slater, Spencer, Tonks, Hollywood et al impose a severe burden.  Said shelf fits in round the boiler, hence makes good use of otherwise wasted space.  It's been a while since I've made busy with a crosscut saw, drills, clamps etc, and it was quite a pleasant way to spend the odd hour on a bright, breezy autumn day.  We couldn't find any suitable batten in our stocks of scrap timber, but Martyn found a bit of melamine coated chipboard that has been knocking around in the attic since it ceased to be part of some sort of self-assembly furniture.  Cutting it to length presented no problem, and I found enough recycled one-inch N°6 screws to fasten the pieces together while the glue hardens.  What I hadn't done, of course, was measure fore and aft.  Needless to say, the reinforcing batten conflicted with the support studs in the side of the cupboard, so I had to make with the chisel to get it to fit.  Well, as our favourite duty solicitor would say, there you are.  It's all in place, and the shelf is somewhat closer to the horizontal than it once was.  We have also lined up a few rarely-used books for the next trip to the Hospice in the Weald shop.

We took advantage of the dry weather the other day to bring the fuchsias and olive indoors for the winter.  We took a lot of cuttings in the spring from last year's fuchsia plants, and scattered them round the garden, where they have done very well, despite the dreadful soil and egregious neglect.  We treated ourselves to a couple of glazed pots in the spring, planting them with still more fuchsias, and they seem to have liked that environment as well.  I've been a big fan of fuchsias for years, going back to my days as a lodger with my aunt and uncle in Orpington and later Sidcup.  We have a few hardy plants round the garden as well as the half-hardy summer bedding varieties, and they are invariably rewarding.

Meanwhile, in other parts of the world, the builder has decided that the rendering is good except where it has already fallen off, and would we mind if he didn't start work till we're there.  Not 'appy, having bought the flights, parking and car rental for a planned stay of three nights, y compris Friday and Saturday.  I think the assumption is that, as owners of a second hovel, we must be rolling in it.  I suppose the final bill be un peu moins salé but snarl nonetheless.