New Shelves

I was up a ladder in the shower, trying to clean the dust out of the fan. I managed to bump the shower head and get soaked with (warm) water down my back. Changed, then moved the ladder a bit. Poke Poke, getting dust out with tweezers. The fan stopped. Dead. Never to go again.

I rang the fan folk and the very helpful Mark, who seemed to think I had a working knowledge of all things electrical, insisted on ‘talking me through’ a simple check…

‘Take the two wires out of the connector on the right hand side and don’t let them touch - you’ll need to put them in another connector. Now take the L & N wires from the left hand side, and put them both into one of the connectors on the right hand side. If the fan starts, this will check whether the blah blah works or not… and then we will know if we need a blah blah...’

‘L and N wires? Er, I’m not too sure I should be poking about in there….’

The doorbell went. Aha! The joiner. I ran to him, grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bathroom. I won’t even bother to say how startled he looked.

I shoved the phone to his ear and led him to the ladder in the shower. Men know about these things. Well, not this chap. He just knows screws and drills. Pity.

For a joiner, he was remarkably accident prone. He stumbled over his own tools in the kitchen twice. At one point he admitted that he didn’t have his glasses, he forgets that he needs them now… He left a whole mug of coffee I made him, and in fact, he had to come back in for his toolbox as he left.

He knocked a few things over on the way out the back door, carrying the six foot long shelf to trim outside. I heard a clatter. When I looked out later, I could see that the top of the (£1) lantern was missing. No sign of it, so I stood on the wee step ladder, and yes - there it was over the six foot high wall in the next garden. (Everything is six feet today).

When he had finished the shelves I made him asked him if he could climb over the wall and retrieve the lantern top (it being so expensive). It was easy getting on to the wall from this side using the wee steps, and he leapt down. There was silence for quite some time.

‘Are you all right?’ I called, not daring to climb up and look in case he’d impaled himself on something. I think the drop on the other side was more than six feet…

Eventually he answered. I think he had landed on his bum. But he got the top and managed to get back over. And he was no spring chicken, either. However, he did a good job on the shelves and they look brilliant. I have arranged the jug collection along it, for JR to come and re-arrange them tonight.

I am now awaiting the coal delivery. And hopefully, an electrician.

And I won't mention the rugby.