If only anyone tagged me ....
*Adopts plaintive whine* Why'd nobody tag me to do a the 'four favourite things' meme that's been going round for ages? Huh?
I really really want to be able to do that offhand "I don't normally do memes but since you've tagged me and I suppose it saves doing a proper blog on a Monday" thing.
Still, Universal Soldier gave a general invitation to do it so perhaps I might if I get desperate.
The highlight of my weekend was a long-overdue excursion into the world of plumbing. I don't do plumbing. Or electrics. Woodwork, plastering, brickwork, painting (actually the LOML does the painting now I think about it), tiling (uh, actually, LOML again), shelf hanging, mending broken stuff, car stuff, bike stuff and whathaveyou, I do. Plumbing, not really. It was with some trepidation that I considered fixing the sink tap in the bathroom that's been dribbling for months. It had got to the stage that I am pretty much the only one who can turn the tap off hard enough to stop it dribbling. And then the kids can't turn it on again to wash their hands, so by now we're probably all walking brood farms for virulent masses of threadworms just waiting for the middle of the night to erupt in an unclean itchfest.
So, pathetic as it may be at my time of life, I didn't know how to change a tap washer. I mean, I know the theory: I know how a tap works, I think. I'd just never taken one to bits and changed the washer.
The LOML was chatting to Andy'n'Mandynextdoor on Saturday morning first thing, and he said he had a tap washer if I needed one. Ta, I said. I'm going to the shops today so I'll probably be ok, but ta anyway.
So quite why it was at five o'clock on Sunday that I was apologetically knocking on his door holding a split tap washer, I'm not sure. No, it hadn't taken me all weekend to take the tap apart, I'd waited until half past four to start, for some reason. I got the tap apart ok, but I couldn't get the old washer off without splitting it in half. So the tap's defo not working now, and I've not got the bit to fix it, and the water's turned off and Child Two cannot understand why she can't have blackcurrant right now. Great.
Fortunately, Andynextdoor has a washer, and it fits the tap and I am DIY hero again. Child Two gets her blackcurrant, and we can all wash our hands and thus stave off third world style parasite infestations.
I offer to buy Andy a pint when I see him as thanks for the washer. I know I am fairly safe doing this because he tends to go to the pub early, and me late. So with a bit of luck I should get away with it for nothing.
I really really want to be able to do that offhand "I don't normally do memes but since you've tagged me and I suppose it saves doing a proper blog on a Monday" thing.
Still, Universal Soldier gave a general invitation to do it so perhaps I might if I get desperate.
The highlight of my weekend was a long-overdue excursion into the world of plumbing. I don't do plumbing. Or electrics. Woodwork, plastering, brickwork, painting (actually the LOML does the painting now I think about it), tiling (uh, actually, LOML again), shelf hanging, mending broken stuff, car stuff, bike stuff and whathaveyou, I do. Plumbing, not really. It was with some trepidation that I considered fixing the sink tap in the bathroom that's been dribbling for months. It had got to the stage that I am pretty much the only one who can turn the tap off hard enough to stop it dribbling. And then the kids can't turn it on again to wash their hands, so by now we're probably all walking brood farms for virulent masses of threadworms just waiting for the middle of the night to erupt in an unclean itchfest.
So, pathetic as it may be at my time of life, I didn't know how to change a tap washer. I mean, I know the theory: I know how a tap works, I think. I'd just never taken one to bits and changed the washer.
The LOML was chatting to Andy'n'Mandynextdoor on Saturday morning first thing, and he said he had a tap washer if I needed one. Ta, I said. I'm going to the shops today so I'll probably be ok, but ta anyway.
So quite why it was at five o'clock on Sunday that I was apologetically knocking on his door holding a split tap washer, I'm not sure. No, it hadn't taken me all weekend to take the tap apart, I'd waited until half past four to start, for some reason. I got the tap apart ok, but I couldn't get the old washer off without splitting it in half. So the tap's defo not working now, and I've not got the bit to fix it, and the water's turned off and Child Two cannot understand why she can't have blackcurrant right now. Great.
Fortunately, Andynextdoor has a washer, and it fits the tap and I am DIY hero again. Child Two gets her blackcurrant, and we can all wash our hands and thus stave off third world style parasite infestations.
I offer to buy Andy a pint when I see him as thanks for the washer. I know I am fairly safe doing this because he tends to go to the pub early, and me late. So with a bit of luck I should get away with it for nothing.
Lost count again. *Adds up on fingers*. Oooh-er, I think it's 69. Snarf snarf.
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