Gas, air and water

Despite my explaining at length to BG why I was stopping the direct debit, I had a phone call last week to ask why I’d done so, so explained patiently once again.  The call centre fellow was perfectly polite, and made no attempt to get the business back.  I imagine he’s heard the same story many times.  Today I’d an automated call asking me to rate last week’s call.  I just hung up.  It’ll be interesting to see how they reply to my two-page snottygram.

We seem to have come through the last three storms with little worse than the disappearance of the milk bottle stopper I’d put on top of the umbrella stand on the terrace table.  I’d to rescue the barbecue cover, but in the meantime the barbie has had a good wash without my expending any effort on it!  A friend in a nearby town tells me that she was without power for 30 hours, so we’ve got off pretty lightly.  

The storms have brought mild weather down here, so the garden is starting to sprint into spring.  The roses are pruned, and my scars have healed.  Lots of yellow crocuses and snowdrops, and the first of the daffodils are in flower.  The polyanthus are putting up an excellent show already, but I don’t see buds yet on the auriculas we planted last year.  Patience (not my long suit).

We have been spending a bit of time on planning the refit of our very shabby bathroom.  It was last done by, we think, the last but one owner, hence at least 20 years ago.  Interestingly, the towel ring and bog roll holder are in the avocado ceramics that probably went in when the house was built in 1980.  We’ve tolerated the depressing beigeness of the bathroom for nearly fifteen years, and in recent times the outsize bath has been just a waste of space, so we’ve decided to replace it with a drive-in shower.  The shower over the bath delivers - when it’s in the mood - hardly better than an enuretic dribble, and our local man says a new, stronger pump will feed two showers.  At a price, of course.