Things were bound to go wrong I guess. Basically the caravan has shifted a bit and sunk at one side [the side where the toilet is] which means the loo won't flush. So we are now heading off into the house with buckets of water because the toilet in the house doesn't work because the plumber hasn't connected the water............
Anyway, back to the beginning. The bed was plenty warm enough now that we have a system of duvetsand plastic wrapped around us but getting up is hard so I have developed a system of getting dressed before getting out of bed but the clothes are bitterly cold so tonight I am going to put the clothes under the duvet at the end of the bed and maybe I can work out a way to slide down the bed and get dressed without being cold. The mornings are so bad that when Chris made me a cup of tea, by the time it reached the bedroom it was almost cold. The caravan in the morning is like some enormous Dementor from Harry Potter, sucking all the warmth out of things. Mind you, it's like a furnace by midday.
This reminds me so much of living in St Michael's. For those who don't know, when Kerry and Danielle were around 7 and 8 we were evicted from our home and lived in 'temporary accommodation' provided by the council. We had an apartment in a big old house, formerly a school, and our bedrooms were the former woodwork room, which was simply a corregated extension to the house. We were there for two winters, the worst possible time of my life. A coal fire in the lounge, the cooker to heat the kitchen and the bedrooms serviced by 2 very inadequate gas heaters. I took my bed into the girls' bedroom and left the gas fire on all night so it took some of the chill off. Consequently, some days there literally wasn't enough money for a decent meal for me as it had all gone in the gas meter. A dreadful time and how I continued studying during it all I just don't know. So actually, it's not like living in St Michael's apart from cold nights and weekly laundrette trips because it's a choice and we're working towards something we want. [That's what I keep telling myself anyway].
Anyway the day didn't get any better. The plumber appears to have vanished off the face of the earth, one of the trenches dug the other day is in the wrong place [following Chris's instructions apparently] and will have to be filled in and redug.
As regards the toilet, Chris tried doing something manly with a jack and the caravan and a spirit level while I was on plunger duty. It seemed to work and the toilet flushed, trouble was that then the caravan doors didn't close. So we fiddled with raising and lowering all the corners and they still didn't shut. Chris went in search of a solution. I couldn't leave the caravan because the doors won't close so stayed there cursing the plumber.
At least the weather's still good, which is more than can be said for our moods.
Antony came to mow the lawn, which always does the spirits good. How does a smell affect one's moods so consistently and strongly? Our neighbour offered to lend us her mower if we pay her gardener to do the job, which would be great but we really need to think about buying one.
No comments:
Post a Comment