Rackwick, Hoy

What a scunner at the Bolt Hole.  Two floods in the bathroom.  A minor repair had seemed effective so we departed for our meal.  On return further activity in the bathroom induced another inundation at such high pressure.  Whilst CMC was baling/mopping/flushing l went to isolate the supply.  It gave only a partial stop.  CMC called her brother (double time on the Sabbath) who came down with a key and loctated a Toby near a scour valve.  Some two hours later, after we had deflated the liferaft , l couldn't work out why there was no electric supply to the shed.  The electric fencer was on, CMC received a shock whilst watering the kye.  In the shed the plugs above the bench and all lighting weren't working.  Even more bizarre the fuses (strangely in the fuse box) had no wire in them.  Once again CMC's brother attended.  He explained the shed supply was now controlled from a fuse box in the kitchen.  Who knew?  Certainly not CMC who owns the house  Confused?  So am l. 

We soothed our inner selves by going to visit
Erland in the café.  John Budge told is about Willie Fraser and his A35 van.

Ultimately we were at peace thanks to a walk in Rackwick.  Honymoon memories.

'What an inconsequential load of tittle-tattle'.  Times Literary Supplement.

'This man should stop Blipping'.  Blipping Weakly.

'My balls were black and blue'.  Croquet Monthly.