Hanging about

After the success of yesterday's trip, I should have slept well last night, but didn't for some reason. So I've been a bit dopey/dozy all day. The weather has duly started to turn much colder, with the wind backing into the north, and the cloud cover persisting.

It didn't help that today is the day the fitter from Wilson's is supposed to be coming to look at the state of our cratch board. Long term readers will recall that about two years ago we had to have the cratch wings taken away by Wilson's because the bottom rails were bowing out and allowing water penetration between the glass and the wood.

All seemed well for a while, but this summer I noticed it happening again, together with the joints opening up. I rang Wilson's whilst we were at Braidbar, but they didn't get the act together to come and look at it there, nor did they manage to catch up with us as we were cruising down here. On our arrival at Mercia I got in touch again, and was promised this visit.

Port outer corner

Inner end showing gap between wood and glass

We've carefully rolled the cover out of the way, but so far, no sign of the guy. Isn't it infuriating when you stay in all day for some tradesman to call, and he doesn't? I'll report on events again tomorrow; it's just typical that they are probably going to take the wings away again just as the weather turns colder.

Meantime, Sheila walked into the village for some bread (silly of me, I should have got a nice loaf whilst in Sainsbury's yesterday) and I did some updating to the Pub Guide; I've been too dopey to do anything more creative.

The towel rail needed bleeding again, and on checking I decided that the central heating header tank could use a top up. Fortunately, the dehumidifier tank was quite full, so I had a nice supply of distilled water to use.

We watched the first half of the last Campion story this afternoon, but otherwise just loafed about reading and stuff. After we've watched the second half, probably tomorrow, we can make a start on the Sherlock DVD that Elanor has lent us.

Oh, and one more thing; whilst drinking my mid afternoon cup of tea, the phone rang. It was the Blaydons of Thomas Tallis, but no one spoke when I answered. I think maybe either Chris or Anne forgot to lock the keyboard before sitting on it.

It's OK guys, there were no recognisable sound effects…

/wahaha