Let there be more light....

-
For the last couple of weeks, I have been doing some extra hours at Binland, and have been turning up at odd times throughout the day.  My colleagues, who are used to waving me 'Adieu' around 1.00, are completely bemused at seeing me there in the afternoon, and not a day goes by when one of them doesn't react with a, 'What are you doing here?  Stop messing with my head', or something similar.  
Arriving back at work yesterday afternoon, I headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea for myself and Master P.  I'd brought in a box of French Fancies to share with him, and thought that a cup of tea would accompany this culinary perfection quite nicely.

Imagine my surprise to be faced with 6'4" of blonde beefcake tinkering with the fridge.  After a few draught-like manoeuvres as I tried to get the milk ('your move'....'my move'..) I had a thought.

'Are you an electrician?' I asked.  This was probably a daft question bearing in mind he had the fridge socket in pieces and was wearing rubber soled boots, but you know what they say about assuming.

Having confirmed that he was, I asked him whether he'd come and check my light bulb once he'd finished with the fridge.  This has been going on and off like a lighthouse for the past six weeks, and I'm not saying that my corner of the sales office is dark, but I'm thinking of learning Braille.

He appeared in my office ten minutes later armed with a veritable smorgasbord of stuff, and asked Master P and me to step outside of the office in case there was a big bang.  The two of us shuffled down to the Depot, and the various females in there were all agog at the sight of the electrician with the screwdriver.  Jokingly, and I can say this as I am in my sixth decade, I said, 'Be still my beating heart.  He's lovely and I'm going to offer him one of my French Fancies if he gets my light working again'.

'Why has he kicked you out?' asked Mrs S.  'In case he gets an electric shock I suppose', I replied.  'What if we had to resuscitate him....' Well it all went quiet for a second as each of us pondered whether our First Aid certificates were still valid.

'I'd resuscitate him', I said.  'Imagine that, the kiss of life and a French Fancy...it doesn't get much better than that on a Monday'.

I think you'd all agree....



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's raining men...

-
We overslept this morning.  I'm not entirely surprised having walked the equivalent of a half marathon over the past two days, and we just about made breakfast.   We did all the usual Christmas stuff today.  Carnaby Street, Regent Street, Borough Market, mulled wine (again), chocolate covered bananas and caramelised nuts.  There was also the issue of the very inclement weather.  Wandering around the whole A to Z of London, the husband decided that a purchase of a hat and scarf was necessary.  Being a fairly sensible woman, I had brought a hat, scarf and gloves with me, but the husband, being of tougher stuff (he hails from the north) had proclaimed that he was no southern softy and would deal with whatever the weather had to throw at him in a manly fashion. Fast forward to late morning, the rain was chucking it down, and the manly fashion had morphed into wimpy whinging about a chaffed chin due to an evil coat zip and a wet head.  And so began the hut hunt. We tried sports shops (t
Read more

Ain't no mountain high enough...

-
Image
I thought you might be interested in the other stuff Mr Bird and I got up to while we were away in the Wobble Box this weekend.  The pinnacle of the weekend was the mountain climb (see what I did there?) but before this, we had anticipated a simple, peaceful and quiet few days together with the dogs.  What we hadn't expected was to be shouted at as we strolled to the pub on the first night, 'What on earth are you two doing here?' Standing outside a posh (and long) motor home, were two very good friends of ours.  Happily retired, they trolley around the world in their home on wheels, and just happened to land in Pandy a whole thirty minutes before we did on Thursday.  The funny thing is, that every time we see each other, the subject of caravans and motor homes is always raised, with promises on both sides made that we will arrange something together for a weekend.  To date, we've never managed to do this, but it finally happened by accident.  We all decided that th
Read more

Diary...

-
Eight years ago, I came up with the idea of writing a diary for my children which I would put into the public domain.  And so Words from a Bird began.  Two thousand posts and almost a million words later, I am still going.  But like all of us, lives change.  Eight years ago, my life was all about the four children, schools, universities, boyfriends, girlfriends, work, my husband, family and the dogs. Much of that is still relevant today, thank goodness, but we now add in two weddings (one more pending), grandchildren (one, and again, one pending), retirement and looking after parents. So to all my completely gorgeous readers, to the ones who have been with me right from the start and to the new ones who have discovered me just this week, thank you for coming along for the ride with me.  I hope I carry on making you giggle for many years to come!   If you don't want to miss anything, just follow the Words from a Bird page. And when I am a very old lady, I hope that my children will
Read more