There’s nothing like ironing to focus the mind (on anything but ironing). If you read my last post, and I know you haven’t – there’s no need to be kind, you might be wondering what happened about the hot water tank. Well, once again the indecision kicked in, and I made multiple enquiries of many people, obtained phone numbers, applied phone numbers – and I even got as far as actually getting a plumber round to look at the existing tank! He spoke to my son and I about possibly downsizing to a smaller tank, and then he said he was “going shopping” and would phone me from the hardware shop with the prices. As he left, I said to my son “We won’t be seeing him again”. Later, when the guy failed to phone me as promised, my son marvelled at my judgement.

One of the plumbers I phoned sounded about 90, and I’m not usually an ageist – how could I be? – I lived with someone who was 22 years older than me for 23 years. But I decided it wouldn’t be smart to have a trembly hand tinkering with the triphasé (that’s French for whatever triphasé means). So I told him – and here’s a tip – if you phone a Frenchman after midi (noon), he won’t answer his phone, because it’s holy hour – when people sit down and eat something they have cooked together, and converse and goodness knows what. So I told him – my blog my rules,  that we were going to try and change the hot water tank ourselves, and I would phone him back si besoin ( if needed).

And that’s what “we” did. Having had three weeks without hot water, the novelty had definitely gone down the drain – but with no hot water to help it along. By the way, replacing a hot water tank figures on the one-spanner list – you know the way they rate things from one to a whole boxful of spanners?  – well, this job is meant to be easy.