That’s been the predominant sound this month. I’ve been having a teeny tiny streak of… well, I would call it sheer coincidence and possibly a dollop or two bad luck. Big dollops. We’re talking horse sized. Elephant, even.
All Him Self can say is “Don’t touch ANYTHING.”
I have broken things that have broken in the house include:
The tumble dryer. Thank God it’s summer, eh? A British summer. Raining. So all my laundry is over radiators. Marvellous.
A laptop. Not mine, fortunately, the one the kids use. So no big loss. Except. Yannow. Summer. Kids are bored. They need to make plans with their friends (which is all done on facebook now. How time changes, huh? Even just two years ago they managed with texts.). They need to
look up google timetables. Everything is done online, so they whine constantly and ask to use my comp to use the internet. Except…
The Whole Entire Internet. Or at least the part of it that comes to my house. None. Nada. Zilch. And it took our ISP DAYS to make an appointment to come out. So, I used a dongle instead – no, I’m not addicted, I can give it up anytime. I can use the telephone, unlike my daughters! Except…
(You know what’s coming now, right?)
The telephone. Let’s start with my mobile. For some reason, every text sent failed. I turned the phone on and off again. I removed the battery and sim. I checked the website for my phone. I checked the website for my network. I call Him Self* take a look. 5 hours later… yes, really, 5 hours… someone asked me if I had any credit. D’oh.
The Landline. Because, natch. I tried to call himself to whine about my mobile and had no dial tone. Hurrumph. So, that evening he fiddled and messed and moved this wire and snipped that wire and fixed the line.
The telephone. Refused to accept the fixed line and stubbornly refused to work. 24 hours of sweating, swearing and faffing followed. On the verge of getting a new one, Him Self finally figured out that the base station had forgotten to communicate with the handset. He inputted a code and all was well again.. All that stress for nothing.
My oven. Which is almost new so I’m not happy and taking this one further. In the meantime, cooking has become a real joy.
The bathroom light. I did wonder if there was a power surge or something because the light flared and dimmed and flared and dimmed… and then it was gone. Oh dear.
The kitchen light. It’s starting to become a joke now, everyone is pointing and laughing at me, so when Himself asks me to turn on the kitchen light I jokingly ask “Are you sure?” And then… <flicker> <flicker> <zzzzt> Yeah.
Oh, and the floods. I’m actually blaming the kitchen light on the floods. Twice… TWICE IN A MONTH… we ran the bath and forgot it and flooded the damn house so badly it literally streamed through the kitchen ceiling. Wet plaster stinks, fyi. And as an even more direct result of that:
The kitchen ceiling. Sigh.
Tomorrow, I am not getting out of bed.