Proper reception

Ages ago, I may have written about our lousy reception. This was because Tim the Electrical Engineer is crap at aerial installation. He admitted as much and I couldn’t agree more. Today, Aerial Dean came around to fix it up.

Actually, I thought he was just going to have a look and quote for the job but, no, he looked at it, despaired over Tim’s effort and went to work. Two hours later, we were once more connected to the proper aerial on the chimney and the BBC was back, in full splendour. What a guy.

Now, if only the step tops would dry out. Speaking of which…the morning was beautiful; blue skies, sun and a light breeze. Great, I thought, a good chance for some evaporation. I stripped off the plastic and set up the big fan, letting it blow it’s magic on the dampness that is the screed. And it was going quite well. I figured all of today and maybe tomorrow and it would be ready for a jolly good priming.

I think I’ve probably mentioned the stupid optimism I start each day with. When I wake, my glass is completely full. It’s usually empty by bedtime.

I was sitting in the extension at lunchtime, eating my usual ham roll, having just informed the dogs that we’d be going up to the park after I’d eaten, when I realised that the beautiful blue sky had been replaced (instantly, it seemed) with a hideous black and grey. And then it fell.

The rain was almost tropical. I was out of my seat like a shot, struggling with the black plastic, endeavouring to preserve as much dryness as I could. I wasn’t very successful. In retrospect, I might just as well have left the black plastic on. I certainly wouldn’t have hurt my knee…which I did when I slipped in the mud and painfully collided with the brick side of the middle step.

Anyway, having limped my way to covering the step tops (AGAIN), I shut the big doors on the continuing deluge.

And so it remained for the rest of the night.

Mirinda wasn’t too happy, claiming Builder Dave wouldn’t finish the steps. I told her, if Builder Dave didn’t finish the steps, then Builder Dave wouldn’t be getting his final payment. I also told Mirinda that I’d be building a step from the terrace and a temporary path through the mud tomorrow, to prevent further limb damage.