Z pipes down. Or clears a downpipe, which is the same thing

We went out for lunch today, which is not unusual, but we took it as a small celebration. For the last few weeks, the washbasin in the bathroom has become increasingly sluggish to drain. So has the one in the downstairs cloakroom, though I didn’t necessarily link those two facts. I put washing soda and boiling water down in the bathroom and it helped a bit, but not much. Tim’s theory was that it was the outlet that was blocked, but I doubted that as the bath shared the outlet and that was fine.

Tim was right.

I’m so glad he was right. It was just a few leaves, nothing much at all, and it only took a few minutes to sort out. Then the water just ran away and, after all the time I’ve spent rodding out drains in the last few years (there’s a toilet paper theory to account for that, which I may well tell you later), to have a simple solution brought me joy. I’m easily pleased, you might think, but it’s not the joy you should focus on but the awfulness: that is, it’s the contrast.

Anyway, after this was done, quite late in the morning because I’d been avoiding the issue in the expectation it would be an Utter Bastard to deal with, I said I would take Lovely Tim out for lunch to celebrate, which was where I started. And we had exceptionally good fish and chips at one of our preferred Yagnub pubs. And, because I’m on a No Food Waste kick, I wrapped the leftover fish skins, batter and chips (there is always a bit too much food, neither of us has a massive appetite) in our paper napkins and they will be fed to the chickens in the morning. They will be thrilled.

We had a modest masala omelette for dinner. No question of a big meal. And, because it was quick to cook and quick to eat, we conducted an impromptu quiz afterwards – poor LT had no idea what to expect when he married me and I’m not sure he knows, day to day, even now – and we came out honours even. Though he did not know in which year Foinavon won the Grand National, but he was out of the country at the time, so fair play.

That’s been our day, darlings. In other news, young Perdita had regained her birthweight after a week, which is very good. Weeza is visiting this evening – indeed, she probably has already visited, whether with the whole family or not I don’t know, and all is well with Ro and Dora. I hope to go over again soon and post another picture. I’m always welcome but don’t want to impose …

Which gives rise to another paragraph – the balance between barging in and being aloof. I’ve never known where it stands and I wish I had that instinct. If one doesn’t, is one insensitive or too sensitive? I don’t know that either. I suspect that the answer is to be able to be honest with each other and not be hurt if the reply is not what one hopes and to be equally honest the other way. In this case, it’s less complicated because I can, in fact, ask if it’s convenient and if it isn’t, another day will be suggested. All their friend want to meet Perdita, after all, but Granny is welcome, I know. So is Tim, almost a grandad.

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