The joy of being scunnered!

Wasn't going to complain. But

28 December to 30 December blocked main drain. Details censored in consideration of those with delicate imaginations.

30 December no water – main supply fractured and three postcode areas affected. Bought 30 litres of water to divide amongst the neighbours – water back on before it could be distributed.

4 January took our 17 year old cat to the vet – had to come home without him, and he is now, it warms my heart to believe, purring in eternity.

Sunday January 9, at 2.13 pm ( I noted the time) the cold water supply burst in the cavity between the garage and the kitchen.

Three hours later, fingers numb and feeling as big as cucumbers, arm scraped after lying on the road on the ice, trying to locate the cold water supply turn-off valve while my cheek was pressed into the slushy tarmac, I managed to attach a hose to the gushing pipe and persuade the water to run harmlessly into the main drain, which was now mercifully unblocked.

Monday Jan 10, still unable to locate the turn-off valve in the house, accompanied by a plumber whose patience was biblical in its perdurance, and after us trying again to get the street valve to turn-off while avoiding multiple hernia injuries, we finally attached two pressure seals to the ends of the fractured joints, the only down side being the icy plentiful spray that ( I use the word for once in its more accurate and untheological sense) inerrantly found that part of our necks and the inside of the sleeves at the wrists, so that channels of icy water flowed up to the oxter and encountered channels of icy water flowing down the front of our shirts. 

There are valuable and profound and meaningful and transformative spiritual lessons to be learned from all this, but I can't be bothered.

Those familiar with the Scots language will know what I mean when I say I am scunnered. Those unfamiliar with the word – ask me on a better day. 🙂