It's All Good

On Friday I got the call to say I was definitely to collect my Dad from Nottingham. Again. We're of high hopes that this is his last stint in hospital for chest pain, that he is finally sorted. And on a myriad of medication.

Friday also heralded the arrival of the oil tanker. Hundreds of litres of the expensive stuff spilled into my tank. As the tanker left, I went to my boiler and the red 'Lockout' light was shining brightly. I pressed the reset button. The boiler went on and off. Again and again I tried. Keeping the fingers on the other hand crossed that it would roar into life, without the need for an engineer and the hideous call out charge. I started to do the I-need-to-pee dance and decided I would have five more presses of the reset button before I commenced the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash to the loo.
First press. It died again.
Second press. It died again.
Third press. It died again.
Fourth press. It roared into life. Whilst completely the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash I pressed a hand to the radiator. Heat was starting to work its way through. I combined the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash with a Hurrah dance. You can't conceive of how attractive it was. Mifford looked as though she wanted to join in. Possibly.
But. I have heating! It's warm. It's toasty.

That afternoon I rang a man.
"Hello"
"I'm looking for a chimney sweep."
"Are you now?"
"Well I think I am."
"You think you are?"
"Well I lit a fire and instead of the smoke going up the chimney it filled my entire downstairs with a vintage London smog. That can't be good? Right?"
"I bet you've got Jackdaws in your chimney."

Oh good. What worries me is not that they're living there. It's that they might be dead there. I can't even bring myself to look up there in case that's the exact moment the dead thing drops out, because in my world that's just the way things happen. I hope he doesn't charge extra when he discovers that Mifford used to pee in the fireplace. I know. She's nuts. It's why I want a fire. A singed backside will put a stop to that little escapade.

Well, it's almost all good. I should like to tell you about my right arm. It's the one they shot electricity down in an attempt to establish why it hurts. Anyway. It hurts these past few days. Possibly exacerbated by the cold which makes the arthritis in that hand get aggravated. On top of this I managed to swipe my little finger across the serrated blade on the sellotape dispenser. Twice. That smarted. I also have a cut on the back of my hand, I have no idea how it got there. Nor the large bruise that's immediately to the right of the cut. My right arm is in the wars. My left arm? Right as rain.

I cooked last night. Radiatori in a Pumpkin Sauce. I must add it to What's Cooking because it was oh so fine. Delicious. I'm going downstairs soon to reheat the little that's left and wish I had piles of it. Rachael cleaned her plate too so I think she enjoyed it too.

Another good thing. I got new jeans. They fit great in the shop, then after a couple of hours wearing they were loose. In that I didn't need to undo them to remove them, which wasn't so great, but with a belt, they're great again. I love my new jeans. I would like some black ballet pumps. I don't know why, I just feel I need some.

Oh! You know what else is good? I have four avocados sitting in my fruit bowl. I love avocado. See how easy I am to please!