This evening I have been along to a barbeque at Dani and R's. I have sunk three burgers and not quite half a bottle of red wine and cycled back in the sunshine. I feel that all is well with the world. This is particularly true because I think I have found a plumber.
Just let me type that again, to savour the phrase:
I think I have found a plumber.Or to be more precise, a pair of plumbers. Let's just say that one more time:
I think I have found a pair of plumbers.It went like this:
- They came round roughly when they said they would.
- They smiled and shook my hand and apologised for being a bit late.
- They assessed the job.
- They went outside to look at the soil-stack.
- They told a couple of bad jokes.
- They asked a couple of relevant questions.
- They said they thought it would take about a week, all together.
- And then, they went away to think about a quote.
I think I love them.
Admittedly they may not fulfill their early promise and I might be taking the relationship for granted at too early a stage, without waiting for it to develop at it's own pace.
But I want to marry them. Both of them. They are probably married already, but so am I, so that is fine.
To get a new toilet that actually flushes the poo away and to no longer have to poke at it with our poo-poking-stick to make it disappear, I am prepared to divorce B and marry either or both of them.
AND, they do tiling, as well.