Nesting

Last week I received a phonecall from Oddjob to the effect that the flat in which I live was due to have its Energy Performance assessed for Certification and would I prefer to be present or was I comfortable with him using the spare keys held by the letting agent to let himself in while I was out. I was fine with him letting himself in and made a mental note to have the place as tidy as possible when he arrived.

He was due round at 3pm today.

I'd be quite interested to find out the EP rating on this place; its original Victorian single-glazed wooden sash windows have shrunk a little in the 160 years since it was built and that means that when I use the squeegee blade to clear the windows of condensation, the water can easily drop out between the two sashes without any need for me to open the windows. Handy!

At 3:30 today I received a phonecall from the letting agent to alert me to a mishap. She wanted to make absolutely sure that I didn't arrive home in the midst of the clear-up without advance warning.

It seems that in order to carry out his assessment it had been necessary for Oddjob to open the hatch into the loft. Now this is something I have been tempted to do ever since I moved in, if only to see just how large a flock of pigeons occupy the space up there, but common sense has prevailed. I can hear their little claws scratching as they walk over the hatch, which tells me there is no separation at all between the topside of the hatch and the underside of the colony. No doubt there is a depth of dust, fluff and feathers which would be normal for any size bird nest. There may also be maggoty carcasses, a mountain of birdshit, rotten eggs, pre-fledged chicks and the force of gravity. I have resisted temptation.

The call was to let me know that having got the hatch open, Oddjob had been unable to close it and so had sent out a distress call to the letting agent. He needed to get out of there and return the keys to the office while they contacted HandyMan to come and sort it out urgently, keys to be available in the office shortly.

I found it utterly hilarious and thanked the letting agent for keeping me informed, while reassuring everyone that I was not in the least worried about it, just sorry that I was missing the fun.

I found it very difficult to concentrate at work after that; were there pigeons flying around inside my flat crashing into windows covered with condensation? Were there rotting maggoty carcasses lying on the only piece of fluffy-side-up carpet that exists in the flat? I was awfully glad that I had been able to tidy the place quite so spectacularly following my purchases yesterday at TKMaxx.

I arrived home to find Handyman just making his final sweep. No excitement at all. I see that he has not been able to pull the hatch down 100%. Obviously it fits more snugly than the sash windows, or perhaps there remains a quantity of dust and feathers preventing it from dropping sweetly into place. I am rather tempted to purchase some sturdy handles, open the thing, fit them and close it properly, but not tonight.

I photographed this pretty plant at lunchtime today when, 'fact, nothin' to laugh at at all!