Maintenance (iii); the end for now
Tuesday, September 18th, 2007 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanTrevor and his mate have now gone. After much effort on their part, the loo now flushes, the bath fills from the hot tap, or so they say; to be fair they said if it didn't behave they would get a specialist in. The sink in the bedroom caused much consternation. Snaky wire devices were shoved down it. Cupboards were opened. Pipes were rattled. Heads were scratched and chemicals deployed. Then the process was repeated several times in different orders.
I have been left with a bottle of alien blood to pour down it as part of the repair process.
Both Trevor and his mate were unable to work out why it wouldn't drain and dire warnings were issued about pulling up carpets and cutting open pipes. Then they left, leaving me with the aforementioned alien blood (it is reassuringly labelled concentrated sulphuric acid and has more 'do not' symbols on it than does the average pub since the anti-smoking legislation came into force). They left a pool of water in the sink draining at maybe a millilitre a century and suggested that once that had gone I apply the alien blood.
Since the sink actually drained better before they worked on it, but not wanting to belittle their advice, I shoved the sponge over the overflow and gave it a couple of goes with the plunger.
The water drains perfectly. The trouble is, I am so unused to the sound of draining water in the bedroom and so used to things going wrong in the Athenaeum Club that I am wandering around checking for running water where it has no right to be. I am suspicious like that.
The door has not been dealt with, but reassuring noises were made and promises of imminent activity made. I shall give it a few days before recommencing the psychological warfare. For now I am going to make a cup of coffee and then go across to Waitrose and buy a loaf of bread to replace the rather green thing that was sitting in the kitchen.
I hopeful that this is not related to the plumbing.
I have been left with a bottle of alien blood to pour down it as part of the repair process.
Both Trevor and his mate were unable to work out why it wouldn't drain and dire warnings were issued about pulling up carpets and cutting open pipes. Then they left, leaving me with the aforementioned alien blood (it is reassuringly labelled concentrated sulphuric acid and has more 'do not' symbols on it than does the average pub since the anti-smoking legislation came into force). They left a pool of water in the sink draining at maybe a millilitre a century and suggested that once that had gone I apply the alien blood.
Since the sink actually drained better before they worked on it, but not wanting to belittle their advice, I shoved the sponge over the overflow and gave it a couple of goes with the plunger.
The water drains perfectly. The trouble is, I am so unused to the sound of draining water in the bedroom and so used to things going wrong in the Athenaeum Club that I am wandering around checking for running water where it has no right to be. I am suspicious like that.
The door has not been dealt with, but reassuring noises were made and promises of imminent activity made. I shall give it a few days before recommencing the psychological warfare. For now I am going to make a cup of coffee and then go across to Waitrose and buy a loaf of bread to replace the rather green thing that was sitting in the kitchen.
I hopeful that this is not related to the plumbing.