Today is not going to go down in the annals as one of the greatest days ever. It started with me getting up an hour or so earlier than I would have preferred, in order that I might be dressed and (relatively) compos mentis by the time the drain-unblocking guys came round. Yes, again; despite them having been round to clear what ailed the drains last month, the dratted things were bunged up again. We talked to our insurance people and they said "OK, you need to get two quotes for having the root damage fixed", to which our response was "but they're going to have to clear the blockage to do a quote - you want us to wait in twice for this?" "Er, no, OK, one quote will do."
So eventually the two guys and their high-pressure wossnames showed up about 10am and took about three hours to clear everything, find an extra manhole we didn't know we had (and neither did the last guy who cleared the drains. Bloody house vendors who don't give you enough information. At least I know where they are to complain at, though on speaking to them just now, they claim not to have known about the mysterious Third Man(hole) either. Mum, darling, you were the one who put the pile of bricks and associated plant pots on that bit of patio - how did you fail to notice the damn thing?), and take notes to produce the report for the insurance company. Said insurance company should then pay both for today's visit (expensive) and the relining of the drains (even more expensive). Sigh.
Time passed, and by lunchtime (if one were to want a late lunch, that is) I made my way into work, which ranged from dull to incredibly frustrating due to communications issues, and thence back home again. I managed neither to commit ritual torture and murder, nor to say anything I would later regret either on the phone or by email, and I count that as a victory, even if a small one.
One of our local churches has an annual book sale in aid of a national children's charity, and it's coming up this Friday and Saturday. Normally I get involved neither with religion nor children, but hey, books - and we did have a couple of boxes of duplicates we'd weeded out during the move, so I drove down to the church to drop those off.
Their car park is quite small, and was very, very full. Getting in required squeezing into a space which wasn't really there; getting out required an intricate game of... maybe Tetris, maybe the 15 Puzzle... to move one car out from the grasp of many. But the hall was pleasingly full of books, and there'll be more arriving tomorrow, and I, Gentle Reader, will be early in the queue on Friday morning. Though I'm buggered if I know where I'll put the car.
Of course, if I buy more books, they'll need space on the shelves - as the duplicates didn't, because they were going out of the house again. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.