grumpyf1

I’ve been doing my bit to assist the NHS this week, and help to not worsen the “humanitarian crisis” reported by the Red Cross. By avoiding using the emergency services, or visiting A&E, I have played my part in reducing pressure on a chronically overloaded system. Whilst I think a medal of some sort is probably in order, I’ll accept public recognition of having been a very brave boy instead. It’s a debilitating injury. In a bleary-eyed state, I crawled out of bed at the weekend on my usual pilgrimage to the kitchen to rustle up a fortifying cappuccino. Unfortunately, pre-caffeine, my co-ordination isn’t very good. This resulted in my bare foot straying slightly off course, initiating a high-speed little toe/chair leg interface situation. As any qualified medical professional will tell you, very few things are as painful as this, or more difficult to do anything about in the immediate aftermath. I did what all hurty-toe sufferers do, producing a stream of swear words so o...

Our washing machine smelt of cabbages, so I called United Utilities. Now they’re going to dig up all of Arnside for the rest of the year. Drama queens. I had begun to wonder if Mrs G was using our ancient washing machine to clean vegetables, but she denied it when questioned. After dismantling the vintage washer, which features a melted powder drawer and a plastic trim bit that falls off if you breathe too hard near it (and upsetting a very well-established spider community in the process), without finding a solution to the whiff, I moved on. With some bonus screws. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just don’t stand directly in front. Or in the same postcode, to be on the safe side. The kitchen sink u-bend was scary, but also untroubled by blockages. Hmmmmm. And then the loo started gurgling. Fearing a dreadful aeroplane/vacuum incident, the Mrs decreed that it was definitely a blockage. After spending an hour scraping the cement stuff out from around the edge of the drain cover in our ...