The central heating boiler breaks down . 'The Font' is in the shower when it happens. The water temperature drops - suddenly. Angus is called. Getting a heating engineer on a Saturday morning is well nigh impossible. Thankfully, a friend at the the University knows a man who knows a man who shows up 30 minutes after I get through. The man is the sort of Scot who is 'not a ray of sunshine'. He is also extremely, borderline clinically, taciturn. He works on the boiler for much of the morning emitting half whispered guttural deprecations as he does so . He grunts with irritation when he arrives and grunts with irritation when he goes. ' Who serviced this boiler ? ' he asks in a tone of voice that suggests a crime has been committed. The good news is that he leaves with the heating gurgling happily away. In the two and a half hours he's here his face remains unburdened by even a hint of a smile. As he gets into his van he says ' You were lucky to get me. Young people don't want to work weekends'. I'm betting the bill, when it arrives, will be equivalent to the GDP of a small African country. He is thanked profusely. A good boiler repair man, taciturn or not, is worth his weight in gold.
Everyday life in a rickety old Scottish farmhouse with a very happy Polish Lowland Sheepdog. A record of those unimportant little things that are too important to be forgotten.
Sunday, March 19, 2023
After a walk on the beach Sophie and Angus have a leisurely stroll back into town. How quiet it seems after last weeks excitement. The wee cafe that had briefly turned into a pizzeria ( together with Chianti bottles on the tables ) has reverted to being a wee cafe. It's not fully open yet. The staff are busy cleaning the window ledges. ' You can't believe how much dust they left' says the owners daughter. Despite the dust and the fact the power has been cut off ( due to a Netflix induced mishap in the kitchen ) Sophie gets a sliver of shortbread.
A miniature Schnauzer has been drinking from the dog bowl at the student cafe. Sophie sniffs it and decides to give it a pass. Sophie is very particular about water. She ignores the water bowls at home much preferring water from a puddle. A bowl that has already been used by a Schnauzer is beyond the pale.
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Better an effective boiler repair man whom P.G.Wodehouse would recognise than a smiley but useless one.
Nobby rather objects to schnauzers as a breed. He thinks they occupy the niche that wire-haired fox terriers used to dominate.
My sympathies to 'The Font', infuriating to lose the hot water mid-shower. It's happened to me on one or two occasions and I've been known to emit a shriek that would impress even Sophie! The makers of my boiler fortunately provide their own repair and service cover, so at least I know who to call if things go wrong.
Now your wee town is back to normal it looks as though your sunny weather has returned too.
Finding a decent heating bloke is akin to finding a decent dentist and neither of these are smile inducing. YAM xx
Glad to the heat is back on, not all have a fur coat. It is good to see life returning to "normal"
What a dramatic moment for The Font when the hot water dropped away! And something close to miraculous that it was restored so swiftly. Taciturn behavior can be endured when it produces such results.
I might add that your description of the repairman is delightful, a character who might step right into or out of a book.
Just imagining a few four-letter words unsuitable for our diva's ears...
Swift changes in shower water temperature are not to be endured.
Puddle water is always tastier - it's all the microbes.
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