Drip feeding the saga
[Hi, John from Birmingham. I hope you got home safely, and thank you for popping down to deliver your message on Tuesday. Thank you also for reading the blog and giving feedback; always appreciated.]
If it hadn’t been for the watery shenanigans at our house, we wouldn’t have been in the square when one of our readers sought us out to compliment us on the blog. I was at home at five, having just finished work and the doorbell rang on the last chime of the village clock. Thinking Neil had forgotten his key, I answered it to find our friendly plumber, so I said hello and left him to get on with things. A few minutes later, a hot water tank arrived, followed by some solar panels. A little while after that, once Neil was home, and we were settling in for a quiet night with Designated Survivor, the drilling and banging started up on the tower, so we decided to go out for an hour or two and let the boys get on with it. They’d gone when we got back, but half a solar heating system (for one of three houses and we’re not sure which) had been installed. Or partly installed as something was banging about up there in the breeze during the night.
Wednesday morning, I went to check the water was coming in and water the plants, when I noticed a new tap had been put onto the landlords in-feed – that’s the one that runs against gravity, up and over the road. I also noticed that the mains feed was now leaking and I could only stop it by turning off the in-feed form the Dimos (town hall mains). It’s not our water draining back as that’s not possible and I hoped it wasn’t the landlord’s either, but once the mains was off, the drips stopped. So what that is, is us paying for the leak until the boys return, hopefully, tonight, and I can try and explain it needs tightening. I’d do it myself, but that would probably result in the entire village being without water as I’d only make a mess of it. And I only own one spanner.
None of this is bothering us, it’s not troublesome, but I am keeping a close eye and have Symi Property Services on speed dial for when it goes horribly wrong, and I need them to come and repair someone else’s errors again – or maybe I am being uncharacteristically pessimistic. Oh, did I tell you about the bathroom door? I can’t remember, but if I didn’t… When nephew George arrived, we went to fetch the spare mattress from the spare bathroom, used as a winter storage area. At first, I thought the metal door had expanded in the heat as it was stuck, but further and lengthy investigation revealed that the lock had broken, somehow, in the closed position. Not the key lock as the key is on the inside, but the snib for the door handle. Luckily, our perfect neighbour had dealt with breaking into locked, metal security doors before (legitimately as a locksmith) and, after a few sweaty hours, managed to drill and cut out a section of the steel surround and remove the lock. Who puts a metal security door on what was an outside bathroom? It was a good job no-one was in it at the time, as there is no other way in or out. Ah well, the joys of island life.