The Man Says Yes

Day 22

L locks the builders out this morning, possibly deliberately although she says not. For once he turns up early and before we can rectify the problem but at least we know he’s been today.

I email the bathroom shop to moan about all the delays and ask them to paint the ceiling. I think they should considering what we’re paying them but I’m sure they won’t.

I get home to discover we have a new toilet and almost a new sink. Which is in but not connected and not fastened down yet. The man himself tells me it isn’t finished (obviously) but will be tomorrow and it will look great. All finished? Everything? By tomorrow evening? The man says yes... Ha ha.

Dogging tonight goes to a vote, a re-vote and a re-count or at least it appears to. Eventually it is decided there isn’t enough of us and it is cancelled again. 

(Monday 31^st October)

Pfffft

Day 17

I text the builder to tell him the shower still isn’t hot enough. He replies quickly giving the illusion that he’s on the job as we communicate. Hopefully he is. He also says the toilet will be in for Friday although he does say which Friday.

I manage to cycle and L manages to swim. L says that no one at the pool asks how she is any more, it’s just

‘Good morning, how’s your bathroom?’

Erm, unfinished.

Then its dog training followed by a pint with L in the Masons where Wainwright is the guest beer yet again. L says be a daredevil... they have Bass, Pedigree or Old Speckled Hen. Pfffft Wainwright please.

(Wednesday 26^th October)

In In In

I enjoy my last shower in the old shower, standing on one leg to avoid the cracks underfoot like we have been doing for the past few months. It will be missed. Today the bathroom redevelopment starts.

I’m on tenterhooks. L’s on tenterhooks. The dogs are on tenterhooks. Everyone is on tenterhooks waiting for the workmen to arrive. The phone rings, they’re running a bit late. Not a good start.

Today Thunder Run entries go live and we are both keeping our eye on Facebook for any news.

‘Get in. Get in. In. In. In.’

I wonder if that’s good news or just panic.

Meanwhile L reports fab smashing sounds coming from the bathroom. Doggo seems to disagree about the ‘fab’ bit and has made himself at home in the wardrobe in the spare room where he curls up on my running shoes and old squash racquets. He best be careful with those antique racquets.

MD couldn’t care less and has no intention of passing up the opportunity of kipping on a real bed and wouldn’t have minded in the slightest if World War Three was going on in his own household.

L goes off to see if she can remember how to run with the Rebel Runners at Portland and to perhaps celebrate our Thunder Run entry as we do appear to be ‘in in in’ as they say. I scrape Doggo out of the wardrobe and head off to dogging.

(Monday 10^th October)