18th October. A Perfectly Good Afternoon Wasted.

I said to get an electrician in to fix the light switch at Cronton Place because it just isn't economic to have me crawling around in the attic pulling at wiring. In the end I was crawling around in the attic pulling at wiring. Carefully tracing a maze of pvc cabling underneath a lavish amount of fibreglass wool laid by the previous owner who must have bought a job lot.

Then I couldn't find my screwdriver that lights up in contact with the mains before you do. Another trip up to the High Street, "No, we don't take Switch Cards for under a fiver." Ok, a short walk to the bank, then back to the shop, then back to the attic. The wiring doesn't make any rational sense...

Then I just decided to turn on every light in the flat, with the result that the hall light which had stubbornly refused to illume came to life. The hall light switch was really just a joke light switch and with its attendant wiring was like the human appendix, a redundant organ from aeons ago. The actual switch had been there all along at the other end of the hall...

Still, I managed to keep Isabelle in the dark as to extent of the pointlessness of the exercise, the lights were "fixed" now.