I hope it does, because there has got to be a positive side to having the boiler switched off for 48 hours. We’re 24 hours in, and they have promised – PROMISED – to be here between 12 and 4 tomorrow, with the right bit of string or whatever it takes to get the boiler functioning again, in a way that won’t kill us in our sleep. The infuriating thing is that this was just a regular service-we had heating and hot water, then they came to check it was working and switched it off. And apparently it has been a bit
possibly dangerous broken for a good couple of years, so a) they missed it last year, when we had them out to service the boiler in October and b) well done us for still being alive.
So, not the best couple of days here at Casa Minimum, but were doing ok-the baby is wrapped in a snuggly snowsuit and crawling around, so he is keeping warm, we have borrowed a couple of heaters so the house doesn’t feel too baltic, but we have no hot water, and although strip washing at the sink does the job, it isn’t very festive or luxurious. I have piles of lovely treat-y bath things (Molton Brown! L’Occitance! a gold bubble bar from Lush!) that I got for Christmas, and they will just have to wait another day for me. I’m actually daydreaming about a really hot bubble bath, with a warm towel on the radiator when I get out, and feeling very sorry for myself. Then I remember that forty years ago, most houses on my street didn’t have central heating, so it was like this all the time, and realise that things aren’t so bad after all-24 hours to go, and I’ve started a countdown to my bath!