It became apparent last night whilst the Bman and I were attempting a bit of late evening shexxytime in the lounge (well it is almost his birthday!) that the heating had gone off. Chilly bits!
Had a bit of a tinkle with the pressure (as it were) and thought it was all cushty. But no…
This was pretty much the sight that greeted us this morning:-
On the phone to British Gas first thing and got an appointment for between 12 & 6pm so we couldn’t even go out anywhere to warm up (like the shed for instance!) Since then it’s been a bit like that scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, where Clark has to put on loads of old clothes when he gets trapped in the attic.
The only reason I’m typing this is to keep my fingers from turning black and dropping off.
Childerbeast are cocooned in all their onesies and huddling round their iPads for warmth… oh no hang on, they do that every weekend!
The boiler dude is here now and has been to his van twice for extra parts. I keep hearing the boiler fire up, teasingly, before it goes silent again. We may all be in the one bed tonight if this doesn’t get sorted, cats and all!