Sorry I Missed Your Call

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Hiya,

Sorry I missed your call yesterday.

I’ve moved upstairs as it is so cold downstairs and my little bedroom is at the back of the house.

Then of course I’m playing music from my beloved Internet radio station and occasionally singing over the top of it too… not a pretty sound.

So when one track finished and there was a brief second between the next, I thought I heard the phone ringing.

Next, I’ve got to extricate myself from my beloved lap top that has entwined its cables lovingly around my legs.

I race for the door.

I negotiate the stairs two at a time, but already the phone is no longer ringing.

I press 1471 and it’s you.

I dial and it’s engaged.

Oh hum!

So my news… I’ve got the builders coming tomorrow. They are going to put a new radiator in the bathroom (the old radiator has nearly rusted through) and re-board the floor (there is the great danger that if you step out of the bath and don’t quite get the right spot your legs will end up dangling through the kitchen ceiling) and also they are going to repair a man hole cover (there’s the great danger that should anyone decide to walk by the side of the house they will end up disappearing through the rusty manhole cover into the festering depths below).

Of all of them the manhole problem is probably the most serious.

When The Teenager pulled the plug on his hot toasty bath the other day and the water gurgled merrily down the pipes there was an amazing steaming geyser of hot moist air rising up from the manhole into the frosty air. Quite a phenomenon!

I don’t think though that it’s this steamy geyser that brings the police!

We often have the police helicopter hovering over the back gardens. The police helicopter is designed with stealth in mind and that means it is the noisiest airborne machine known to man.

It hovers with the public good in mind usually at about three o’clock in the morning when the good law abiding citizens are all trying to sleep, and it creates the most unholy racket that is possible to make!

And our back gardens seem to be its favourite hovering place, perhaps because we back onto the council state (oops council estate) beyond which has a certain reputation. Or maybe it’s attempting to nest in the trees.

I have fears that a felon fleeing from this airborne predation will run pell-mell around my house and will fall through the manhole cover and land in eau de worldsworsemum. Ugh!

Then this same felon will sue said proprietor of the liquid eau and said worldsworsemum will have to sell off house to pay for fine, will become homeless, and then become a felon, and will then end up running from noisy helicopters and falling through unsafe manhole covers.

So you can see my logic in having the manhole fixed, by doing so I can end cut the future crime statistics down, by at least one!

Help … I think I’m going quite mad! I’m writing like a Victorian forsooth!

Sorry I missed your call.

Love and hugs

WWM