airconditioner broke down on Wednesday night. No heating. Not a good thing in the middle of, for us, cold weather. I can cope. Dad finds it a bit more difficult but I popped a hot water bottle into his bed and he slept well enough.
He rang the electrician in the morning. We know the electrician. This is definitely a good thing. He lives not far from here. We met over my tricycle. He pulled up beside me one day in the traffic and said, "Great bike!" When we needed an electrician we naturally called him. How can you not like a man who admires a tricycle.
He employs other people of course so we were expecting someone to arrive in the next couple of days - every electrician in the district being flat out repairing, rewiring, and re-doing whatever else it is that electricians do. We were resigned to at least another cold night and possibly the fact that we would have to take out a loan the size of a government debt and buy a new unit.
At 17:30 hours there is a rapid knock at the door and there is the tricycle admirer himself. "Can't have your Dad cold, not with this swine flu around." He nips out to the unit. Unscrews the cover. Turns things off and then on and off. Runs backwards and forwards to the fuse box. Tells me to switch things on and off inside. Ah! "It's the switch out here. It's faulty. Unit's okay. I'll get someone to replace the switch next week but I've fixed it for now. You can have heat tonight."
Dad pays him. As he rushes out I pass him a jar of the home-made grapefruit marmalade as well. He grins.
I mentioned the idea of an "Anti-Plagiarism Day" to someone who has been trying to write a knitting pattern. "Cat," she said, "There are only so many ways you can tell people to cast on ninety-six stitches." Yes, but why are you casting on ninety-six stitches?