26/9/2005

Dear Dennis,
I was this weekend, courtesy of the brunette, tasked with fitting an extractor fan to the bathroom and also with finishing the wiring to the new electric shower (some year and a bit after initially starting it). Even though I am struck down with a nasty cold type virus, I settled into my allotted tasks with enthusiasm and slightly pissed from a mixture of "Original Ginger Wine" and Bells Whiskey. I pulled down the ceiling I had earlier in the year, fitted so expertly and routed the fan ducting through to the outside of the flat roof and down into the cavity of the outside wall and then out again just below the guttering line. All works well and now the fan comes on just before any nasty niffs are emitted and turns itself off again just before the niff is totally expelled. I thought it odd that she insisted on a couple of dry runs "to get her aim in" - phew she whacks a hard stick when she wants to. In the dry run I had to pretend to touch the live wire and ( I thought) she would pretend to knock me off - well Dennis, for a while I thought I'd actually touched the live wire I was seeing so many stars. I thought I heard her speak (evidently she asked if I wanted to try again) and then I must have inadvertently nodded or something because she hit me again with such a whump. Of course Saul thought this great fun and ran off to get his plastic cricket bat and now keeps sneaking up on me and thwacking my head if I sit down for any length of time. Well the up-shot is that the shower works as does the extractor fan but I've had such a lump come up, my hat won't fit any more and I'm too shaky to actually stand in the shower and somehow sitting under it isn't so enjoyable as at any moment I might be walloped with a plastic cricket bat around the shower curtain but a giggling two and a half year old.