Between Times

This looks like being a good day to wait in for the heating engineer to come round, for only the 5th time – or is it the 6th? I’ve lost count – in the past few weeks. This past week we’ve been very cosy but haven’t had any hot water, following a week during which we had plenty of hot water but no heating, and the week before that when we didn’t have either. It would be nice to get this completely right before the winter sets in, especially as I’ve been reliably informed, and not just on the internet, that it will be the worst winter since 1947, so long ago that even I wasn’t around then.

On the roof again

On the roof again

Apart from waiting in the house, there are a few things I have to do today. I’m in the middle of some research / planning for my NaNoWriMo novel. I am reluctant to call what I do planning as it doesn’t involve a story outline or anything, but I suppose it’s sort of related to planning, because I’ve been thinking about the characters and what they’re going to do, and trying to find names for all of them. It’s quite tricky as the characters I am dealing with were mostly born in the 1920s and 1930s, and the fashions in first names were generally quite different from those of today. Another task is to find out more about Cambridge, a place I’ve only visited once for the weekend. I can’t imagine I will manage to go there before November so I’ve been rounding up some background reading, which even if I have to buy the books is in any case the cheaper option.

Yesterday, my day off work, I was fired with enthusiasm for getting some household tasks out of the way, but sadly that feeling has worn off overnight. Still, during that brief spell I managed not only to book the heating engineer but also arrange for someone to come and clean the conservatory gutter, which has been a daily source of annoyance ever since I noticed weeds growing out of it during the summer. Once that’s done I will turn my attention to our broken domestic appliance mountain. As far as de-cluttering is concerned, I have a vague ambition to get rid of the junk mail this weekend, although it has almost disappeared anyway underneath a pile of paperwork from the various heating repair men who have visited the house lately.

You can tell that my domestic ambitions aren’t all that ambitious! The sad thing is how often I fall short of my own low standards.


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