Well well…

Monday, 18th January, 2021 .The nightly dusting of snow

It’s all very well, taking the cats out for a short walk, but there are times when it’s not the best idea.

Such as yesterday morning. A truck stopped down the road at about 9am, lights flashing, what have you.

It occurred to me that it could be the Well Man but I confess I didn’t say so. Grant carried on his meandering about, calling out “keep an eye on the cats”. Which always makes me nervous.

Whereupon, the truck made it’s way up the hill and turned into our driveway. Sasha inserted herself behind a big yucca plant while I made a grab for Sikkim.

Grant put Toby in through the side door while I gave him a black look.

“What ?” He said. “Nobody ever comes!” I have to admit, until now that has been true.

Something changed, but I can’t think what. Last Thursday our water pressure dropped and I was obliged to call the plumber. We’d had a slight saga when he installed the new water heater. So I groaned.

Voicemail, of course, so I also sent a request via their email. Within minutes I got a call back and on Friday a young lad actually turned up.

Not that he was able to help, but he put me in touch with someone he thought could and that chap arrived promptly on Saturday, even though the business claims not to be open at the weekend.

Well…..the operative word…he couldn’t help either, but he knew who could and actually phoned him for me. Then wouldn’t take payment for his time.

We could have made do till Monday, but amazingly, I got a call asking if I would be home on Sunday. I hadn’t said it was an emergency and I thought it would incur a premium payment, but I wasn’t about to put him off. For sure I would regret it.

And there he was yesterday morning at 9 o’clock!

If you knew the trouble we have, here, getting people to come and fix things, you would understand why we are so stunned by this recent change of experience.

Sasha having been yanked out of the yucca, took up a pew from which to supervise.

And things swiftly got underway:

The orange gloves and hand movements brought on an amusing memory. You’ve seen ramp people at airports, waving at aeroplanes as they come and go, guiding them in to the correct position on the tarmac which can’t be seen from the cockpit. They are called “marshallers”.

The ramp guys used to love teasing new staff, especially girls and I can remember one time, a particularly young, keen girl saying to me anxiously that she had been told she must marshall in the next flight that was arriving. She was so relieved when I told her someone was pulling her leg.

The pilots used to tease us too. When a gullible looking girl turned up on their flight deck, one of them would ask if she’d ever seen the “golden rivet” that all aircraft carried and they would then get her to bend over to peer at it.We had very short skirts in those days. Happy to say I never fell for it.

These days, of course, this would be considered harassment. It was really just childish fun. Most of the girls enjoyed being teased and I don’t think any of them felt harassed, but times were different.

Meanwhile, our well problem had turned out to be a faulty pump. It had been working for 20 years, so who could complain?

We’d been having problems with the well for some time Perhaps when I called for help before, I asked the wrong questions, or started in the wrong place.

Now, we even have a contact for someone who is believed to specialize in generators, so perhaps I’ll finally get that sorted out as well.

Maybe Grant’s interactions with his “sewing machine” people has something to do with it? Though, I can’t think how.

Well, well!

2 thoughts on “Well well…

Leave a Reply to 2catlady Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.