Friday afternoon at home. My Hero and I are sitting at our computers, getting on with our respective business.
“Listen, do you hear water dripping?” says he. “Mmmm….sounds unusual. I wonder where it’s coming from?” (gazes up at ceiling)
“Not in here” I reply, peering into the laundry, “and not in here” as I look into the cloakroom. “I’d better look upstairs”.
“Nothing up here either”
The drip gets louder and the first one hits the floor at our feet. Within ten seconds it’s pouring from the ceiling so I run and grab a washing up bowl and a towel, whilst he runs to turn the water off at the stopcock.
I am on the phone to the builder, who assures me that someone will be here within minutes.
My Hero removes the panel from the ceiling, and once the deluge is over, notes that the water is not coming from a pipe but from the room above. I run upstairs to look and discover a corner of the kitchen under an inch of water.
It’s the fridge. Again.
As we turn off the water supply to the fridge and mop up the water, a call from downstairs comes from the builder who’d raced to our aid, bless him. We can reassure him that we’ve identified the problem, have turned off water and have more or less got the situation under control. Having ensured that there’s nothing further he can do for us he returns to wherever he’d come from and leaves us to look at one another and call the repair people.
Eleven and a half months since they last came.
Thank goodness I blogged!