No builders on Friday, so my dad's ultimatum has come into effect, and I am barred from letting them in. I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to stop them, and frankly, I'm not sure I'm inclined to (I mean, if they're standing there with a shower screen, it might just be too tempting).
I was talking to some people in work the other day, and musing on the vast range of bandits we (I say 'we', I mean my dad) have managed to hire over the years.
I maintain that the present (although now recent past) lot have been the worst: not that there was anything wrong with the quality of their work (which was fine - although when you take 4 months to fit a bathroom, you'd expect it to be pretty damn good), but rather their reluctance to turn up and do anything in the first place, even when they had promised.
Prior to that, there were the Q&B guys, and we all know that they weren't much better. The difference there was that they at least simply disappeared for long periods of time, so one could forget about them and only get in touch when one felt particularly strong.
Before that (and this was in the days before WhyNotSmile, which is why you've never heard of it) we got new windows in. The guy who did this (a friend of my dad's best mate, which is where these people always come from) was very nice and came when he said he would and did a good job and everything. Then about a month later I heard on the radio that he'd been arrested and charged with paramilitary activity. He's now in jail, which seems rather to have invalidated my warranty.
Monday, 14 January 2008
Friday, 11 January 2008
Traffic jams
No sign of builders yesterday; fixed the heating myself (just kept pressing buttons till it worked).
Stuck in traffic for an hour this morning, and wishing I'd remembered to stick a book or magazine in the glove box. Grateful I had downloaded Radio 4 comedy onto my iPod. Wondering what it is about traffic that annoys me so; I can spend hours staring into space while sitting on my bed, and be quite happy, but as soon as I have to do it in traffic, I get annoyed.
Anyway, I got to work eventually, and it is a delightfully sunny day, so all is quite good now.
Stuck in traffic for an hour this morning, and wishing I'd remembered to stick a book or magazine in the glove box. Grateful I had downloaded Radio 4 comedy onto my iPod. Wondering what it is about traffic that annoys me so; I can spend hours staring into space while sitting on my bed, and be quite happy, but as soon as I have to do it in traffic, I get annoyed.
Anyway, I got to work eventually, and it is a delightfully sunny day, so all is quite good now.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
The plot thickens...
On Tuesday there my dad phoned Chief Builder and issued him with an ultimatum: either show up and do something by Friday, or don't come back, ever, and don't come looking for money.
So this morning I woke up and the heating hadn't come on, and the light was flashing on the boiler. Applying my vast technical expertise, I looked at the gauge on the front, which said the pressure was low, so I turned the thing and it added more water to the wotsit and it all seemed grand. Then I pressed the flashing light, for it doubles as the reset button. All went dark for a moment, and then it started flashing again. I repeated this several times, but nothing worked. So I turned it off and went to work.
Once safely in work, having poured the whole sorry tale out to the very sympathetic Christopher, maker of tea (amongst other things, but making tea was the most pertinent at this stage), I phoned the plumber, for advice. He, unfortunately, is moving house (unsurprisingly - I'd keep moving if I were this lot, they can't track you that way), and so couldn't come round (the plumber is actually very nice and helpful when you speak to him directly; it's when you have to interact via Chief Builder that problems begin). But he said to phone Chief Builder who could phone the warranty people.
So I phone Chief Builder, and of course he doesn't answer, but then my dad phones to say he had just spoken to him (not knowing about the boiler, but to follow up on the ultimatum). So we now have two sub-plots on the go, which is starting to get quite complex, but please bear with me. Anyway, this call was to say that they would be there today (in fact, that he was on his way) to fit the shower screen and the shower and the bathroom window, all of which we've heard before, but as they say, hope springs eternal, although not for much longer.
So I phone Dozavtra to tell her to get out of bed in case they come, but of course she is already up for she is good at getting up early, even though she is sick and there is no heat.
I've spent the rest of the morning trying to phone Chief Builder to make sure he knows about the boiler, since he might as well fix it while he's there. However, he hasn't answered his phone, which I am convincing myself is because he's up a ladder doing the window, or something.
Naturally, you will hear more of this presently.
So this morning I woke up and the heating hadn't come on, and the light was flashing on the boiler. Applying my vast technical expertise, I looked at the gauge on the front, which said the pressure was low, so I turned the thing and it added more water to the wotsit and it all seemed grand. Then I pressed the flashing light, for it doubles as the reset button. All went dark for a moment, and then it started flashing again. I repeated this several times, but nothing worked. So I turned it off and went to work.
Once safely in work, having poured the whole sorry tale out to the very sympathetic Christopher, maker of tea (amongst other things, but making tea was the most pertinent at this stage), I phoned the plumber, for advice. He, unfortunately, is moving house (unsurprisingly - I'd keep moving if I were this lot, they can't track you that way), and so couldn't come round (the plumber is actually very nice and helpful when you speak to him directly; it's when you have to interact via Chief Builder that problems begin). But he said to phone Chief Builder who could phone the warranty people.
So I phone Chief Builder, and of course he doesn't answer, but then my dad phones to say he had just spoken to him (not knowing about the boiler, but to follow up on the ultimatum). So we now have two sub-plots on the go, which is starting to get quite complex, but please bear with me. Anyway, this call was to say that they would be there today (in fact, that he was on his way) to fit the shower screen and the shower and the bathroom window, all of which we've heard before, but as they say, hope springs eternal, although not for much longer.
So I phone Dozavtra to tell her to get out of bed in case they come, but of course she is already up for she is good at getting up early, even though she is sick and there is no heat.
I've spent the rest of the morning trying to phone Chief Builder to make sure he knows about the boiler, since he might as well fix it while he's there. However, he hasn't answered his phone, which I am convincing myself is because he's up a ladder doing the window, or something.
Naturally, you will hear more of this presently.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
All By Myself?
Just a question: is there anyone else out there who:
1) Has no idea what's going in the American election thing cos they don't understand any of it and they're not sure who's who or anything
and
2) doesn't really care
but
3) feels they ought to try to have an opinion?
Or is it just me?
1) Has no idea what's going in the American election thing cos they don't understand any of it and they're not sure who's who or anything
and
2) doesn't really care
but
3) feels they ought to try to have an opinion?
Or is it just me?
Monday, 7 January 2008
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year! I haven't managed a post this week, so this is a bit of a marathon update. I've much enjoyed being off work since just before Christmas, and the start of this week was no exception.
I brought in 2008 with friends at a watchnight service in church. I love this service for 2 reasons, the first being slightly the better of the two: firstly, it's a good, positive, gentle way to bring in the new year, with time for reflection, repentance, and looking ahead; being with my church family is always lovely and sharing special times together is part of fellowship.
The second reason is that it's a good excuse not to go to parties that I've been invited to: I have a horror of new year parties, born, I fear, at the millenium, when bad planning ensured that my sister and I ended up at a party full of people we only knew (if at all) on an exceptionally superficial level. If memory serves me correctly, it was on a Sunday (or possibly a Tuesday - Gospel Meeting night), for everyone else had been to church beforehand and seemed rather surprised that we hadn't. So they're all dressed in their Sunday best (including hats) and we turn up in jumpers and jeans like a pair of heathen tramps. So the two of us spent the night trying not to so much as look at each other, in case we laughed and got thrown out (not so much because we were desperate to stay, but because it would've been quite a walk home, and also because these people had been kind enough to invite us (actually, on reflection, that's not technically true - we kind of gatecrashed, which is why we didn't really know anyone) and we didn't want to be ill-mannered).
What I especially hate about new year parties is that you have to, by definition, stay till midnight, even if it's rubbish. But they always start at 9.30, so you're sitting there, gradually falling asleep, knowing that there's no way you'll get out until at least 12.30, trying to fill time by making conversation with strangers and eating the buffet. I fail to see the point; admittedly this may be because I am fundamentally unsociable and dislike making conversation.
Anyway, New Year's morning dawned bright and crisp, so I went for a walk to Ormeau Park - one of the nicest parks in Belfast, in my as-valid-as-the-next-person's opinion. It was early enough to have the park more or less to myself, and there was plenty of wildlife about. Sitting, watching and listening was a perfect chance to appreciate again the joy of quiet, and nature. One of those things I should do more often.
Wednesday was back to work; it was, of course, a bit of a write-off, between catching up on what everyone did at Christmas, and eating all remaining food from before the holidays and then feeling quite sick. By this stage I had not the faintest idea what day it was, which is rather disconcerting.
And so to Thursday, which was to be the first Builder Day of the new year. They were to be blitzing all the remaining stuff on Thursday and Friday; needless to say, on Thursday, only one dude turned up and on Friday no one came at all. Thursday's chap was to fill in the holes in the wall where the heating is vented outside, and to finish off the steps at the back. I have no idea whether he did these things or not, for to my eyes the steps looked complete beforehand (and much the same afterwards) and it's too cold to go and see whether the holes are filled in outside. I think they might be, though, because the gale force wind that has been channelling its way down the hall for 3 months has abated; alternatively, maybe the wind has just changed direction. 'Tis hard to know.
In any case, all else has been eclipsed this week by Friday's snowfall. I was unable to get to work until (*gasp*) lunchtime, for Fifi refused to move over the snow. Apparently what I should have done was put her in second gear and kept the engine revs low while pressing the accelerator, or something, to provide enough forward thrust to get over the snowdrift. What I actually did was stroke her steering wheel and say encouraging things, which didn't seem to help as much as you might imagine. Still, we got there eventually, and in one piece (well, two if you count me and Fifi as separate pieces, which would not be unreasonable).
And that's about it for the past week. By the way, the new year resolutions are going well: I have not undertaken any extra DIY projects (although I found myself tempted by a flatpack bathroom shelving unit in Wyse Byse at the weekend, but I'm not sure that really counts as DIY, since it would probably lack the 'Y' element 'cos I'd get my dad to do it), and have not mentioned Richard Dawkins at all (by way of precaution, I'm still keeping a wary eye on his website, just to be on the safe side). I don't think I've put weight on, though, and I haven't come up with a new crisis plan, but there's plenty of time for all that.
I brought in 2008 with friends at a watchnight service in church. I love this service for 2 reasons, the first being slightly the better of the two: firstly, it's a good, positive, gentle way to bring in the new year, with time for reflection, repentance, and looking ahead; being with my church family is always lovely and sharing special times together is part of fellowship.
The second reason is that it's a good excuse not to go to parties that I've been invited to: I have a horror of new year parties, born, I fear, at the millenium, when bad planning ensured that my sister and I ended up at a party full of people we only knew (if at all) on an exceptionally superficial level. If memory serves me correctly, it was on a Sunday (or possibly a Tuesday - Gospel Meeting night), for everyone else had been to church beforehand and seemed rather surprised that we hadn't. So they're all dressed in their Sunday best (including hats) and we turn up in jumpers and jeans like a pair of heathen tramps. So the two of us spent the night trying not to so much as look at each other, in case we laughed and got thrown out (not so much because we were desperate to stay, but because it would've been quite a walk home, and also because these people had been kind enough to invite us (actually, on reflection, that's not technically true - we kind of gatecrashed, which is why we didn't really know anyone) and we didn't want to be ill-mannered).
What I especially hate about new year parties is that you have to, by definition, stay till midnight, even if it's rubbish. But they always start at 9.30, so you're sitting there, gradually falling asleep, knowing that there's no way you'll get out until at least 12.30, trying to fill time by making conversation with strangers and eating the buffet. I fail to see the point; admittedly this may be because I am fundamentally unsociable and dislike making conversation.
Anyway, New Year's morning dawned bright and crisp, so I went for a walk to Ormeau Park - one of the nicest parks in Belfast, in my as-valid-as-the-next-person's opinion. It was early enough to have the park more or less to myself, and there was plenty of wildlife about. Sitting, watching and listening was a perfect chance to appreciate again the joy of quiet, and nature. One of those things I should do more often.
Wednesday was back to work; it was, of course, a bit of a write-off, between catching up on what everyone did at Christmas, and eating all remaining food from before the holidays and then feeling quite sick. By this stage I had not the faintest idea what day it was, which is rather disconcerting.
And so to Thursday, which was to be the first Builder Day of the new year. They were to be blitzing all the remaining stuff on Thursday and Friday; needless to say, on Thursday, only one dude turned up and on Friday no one came at all. Thursday's chap was to fill in the holes in the wall where the heating is vented outside, and to finish off the steps at the back. I have no idea whether he did these things or not, for to my eyes the steps looked complete beforehand (and much the same afterwards) and it's too cold to go and see whether the holes are filled in outside. I think they might be, though, because the gale force wind that has been channelling its way down the hall for 3 months has abated; alternatively, maybe the wind has just changed direction. 'Tis hard to know.
In any case, all else has been eclipsed this week by Friday's snowfall. I was unable to get to work until (*gasp*) lunchtime, for Fifi refused to move over the snow. Apparently what I should have done was put her in second gear and kept the engine revs low while pressing the accelerator, or something, to provide enough forward thrust to get over the snowdrift. What I actually did was stroke her steering wheel and say encouraging things, which didn't seem to help as much as you might imagine. Still, we got there eventually, and in one piece (well, two if you count me and Fifi as separate pieces, which would not be unreasonable).
And that's about it for the past week. By the way, the new year resolutions are going well: I have not undertaken any extra DIY projects (although I found myself tempted by a flatpack bathroom shelving unit in Wyse Byse at the weekend, but I'm not sure that really counts as DIY, since it would probably lack the 'Y' element 'cos I'd get my dad to do it), and have not mentioned Richard Dawkins at all (by way of precaution, I'm still keeping a wary eye on his website, just to be on the safe side). I don't think I've put weight on, though, and I haven't come up with a new crisis plan, but there's plenty of time for all that.
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