Monday, 28 June 2010

The end of the day


It’s been a good day.

My good pal Julie Faraway emailed in to say she was praying, which was a blessing indeed as I was scrambling to get my funeral preparation done while a steady stream of phone calls created an under-hum of mayhem and the plumber wrestled with the repair of one leak and subsequent testing of the system setting off further leaks and minor floods in our ratchety old house.

Imagine my surprise when, as I sat on the bed in our attic bedroom (my usual work perch) typing away, a somewhat stressed looking plumber came tearing up the stairs, bounded in and looked round frantically, demanding immediate access to the roof space!

Turned out that having drained the system to fix the leak to the hot water cylinder, once he refilled it the inflow of water created unaccustomed activity in the ancient header tank, which resulted in the ball valve giving way and the overflow pipe falling off. Lordy! With no ball valve to control the inflow of water nor overflow pipe to discharge it, the tank then began to overflow lavishly into Hebe’s bedroom, down the light fittings onto the bed and down the mystery cracks we now realize had been caused by similar incidents, into the wardrobe. I must say Those Who Went Before Us did have a talent for neglect. The number of repairs we’ve achieved since we moved in last November!

That plumber was a star. While Julie prayed, he plumbed. Working at the speed of light he unscrewed the fiddly fastenings on the access hatch to the roof space (why did Joe construct the access door like that? What was he thinking of?), and crawled away at top speed into the strange little obstacle course leading to the cobwebby space where the header tank lives. Two hours later and a lot dustier, not only had he fixed it and drilled holes in Hebe’s ceiling to let the flood drain away, he polyfilla-ed up the holes when he’d done, carefully dried off the electricals, re-wired the dodgy light fitting that came loose while he was drying it, mopped up and repaired everything, and left everything ship-shape. How’s that for a plumber and an answer to prayer!

All went well with the funeral, and I got some writing done too.

This evening is peaceful and mellow, gulls crying on the roof, the late sunlight gentle on the garden.

Thank you for the day. Thank you for the sunshine. Thank you for praying friends and conscientious hard-working men who go beyond the call of duty to take care of us. Thank you for the love.

Oh. My friend who died leaves an old cat called Shadow with no home. Well? What d’you think?

5 comments:

Gerry Snape said...

What a gem of a plumber. When you find such a jewel, you keep him and are thankful! We also have such a one. Praises be!!!

Ember said...

:0) Yep.

Julie B. said...

Wonderful man! May God bless him for all that thoroughness and hard work. In a children's book I'm reading called The Magic Summer, eccentric Great Aunt Dymphna claims to hear messages from seagulls, which her four charges who're visiting her in Ireland for the summer, are disbelieving and wary of. Are your gulls talking to you? Are they telling you to give Shadow a home? Even though cats aren't your heart's desire? :) Blessings....

Ganeida said...

One can never have too much chocolate or too many cats. ☺

Ember said...

Two LARGE crows are looking at me through the window. They have heard about Shadow. 'Go for it, mate' they are saying.