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Whoosh!

 


Where did that week go? Wherever it went, I’m glad it went quickly because being stuck in a house when major building work is occurring is not much fun. All the banging and crashing, the various smells created during plumbing activities, the little set-backs that are bound to occur when dealing with a house that is over 170 years old, not to mention being without various bits of a fully operational bathroom…well, I am looking forward to next Tuesday when everything will, fingers crossed, be back to normal which, in my case, means peace and quiet. 

To be fair, our plumber has been very considerate of the fact we have only one bathroom and therefore only one toilet. At ten past nine this morning, he shouted from the top of the stairs, ‘Time for last wee’s!’ as he was about to swap out the old loo for the new. I made the most of the opportunity, then decided to take Nell for a walk because I didn’t want to listen to the high rise cistern being levered off the wall, nor that and the loo being carted downstairs. By the time I returned to the house just after 11 a.m, the loo swap was almost complete and my teacher-trained bladder was holding up well.

This evening, we have a toilet and tomorrow morning we can use the new sink because the adhesive stuff will have set. Because of the delivery cock-up, the shower and wall cupboard won’t be finished until next Tuesday but I am very pleased with how the whole run of new floor cupboards looks. Then it will be time for painting, sorting out some flooring and choosing a few tiles to create a splash back for the sink. 

My writing room has been out of action since Tuesday, too, which has left me feeling out of sorts. It’s been used as a storage space for all the bathroom stuff, so I had to decamp to the dining room for writing purposes because the day after tomorrow signals…drum roll, please…

…the first episode of The Much Malarkey Manor Christmas Story 2024!!

Oh yes! I’ve been tip-tappetty writing away on the laptop and, well, I think I have to warn you that this year’s production is completely and utterly a product of my own imagination with no established or familiar Christmas story plot line to hold it all together. It’s a tale of mystery and intrigue, magic and mayhem, historical liberties and narrative inaccuracies. A great British constitution is at risk - can our intrepid lady hens save the day? 

There’s a new baddie on the scene. There’s a lot of Christmas cards and Christmas puddings. There are some V.I.P guest stars. It’s all a bit, well…different. Feel free to leave quietly by the rear exit if you so wish - I shan’t be offended. But I’ve written it now, so it has to be published. 

Tomorrow, I am painting the bathroom ceiling because it will be easier to do before the shower screen is installed. I’m not looking forward to doing this but I shall gird my loins and channel my inner Miss Piggy and get it done. I expect there will be a bit of huffing and puffing, and some swearing, and my neck will ache somewhat, but I’ll have the Strictly quarterfinal to look forward to in the evening. 

All will be well. 

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