• A Hymn for the Feast of the Transfiguration


    Hey! Let me know you
    You’re all that matters to me
    Hey! Let me show you
    You’re all that matters to me
    Hey! Let me love you
    You’re all that matters to me (Oh come on)
    Hey! So come on yeah
    See the light on your face
    Let it shine, just let it shine
    Shine all your light over me
    Shine!

4 responses to “Will no-one rid me of this turbulent plumber?”

  1.  Avatar
    Anonymous

    Re: Will no-one rid me of this turbulent plumber?
    Argh!

    Latest update.

    I seem to be living in a parallel universe. I have been captured by plumbing aliens and have been taken to planet plumber. Either that or I am the living embodiment of a plumber’s online adventure game.

    The latest is that there is a crack in the hot water tank between the heating coil and the tank containing domestic hot water. Thus the tank needs to be changed. No useable hot water until this is done next week.

    This means showers instead of baths. (When will I get to think?). Boiling washing up water. No use of the washing machine. Fortunately I still have the dishwasher, which comes off the cold water supply and also the heating, so the house is not cold.

    However it appears that most of next week will be spent waiting for plumbers as well.

  2.  Avatar
    Anonymous

    Re: Will no-one rid me of this turbulent plumber?
    Easy solution.  Do what I do –  take your washing to your mother!

    Sorted!!!!!!!!!

  3.  Avatar
    Anonymous

    Re: Will no-one rid me of this turbulent plumber?
    How I am supposed to be a mystic visionary with all this going on?
    *politely puts hand up*
    Um, aren’t mystic visionaries supposed to go without certain creature comforts in order to have such visions???? This will surely help, no?
    Alternatively, you could give up hot water for Lent.

  4.  Avatar
    Anonymous

    Re: Will no-one rid me of this turbulent plumber?
    Well, I don’t find it particularly difficult to imagine St Anthony making his way to the desert wadi looking for clear water, finding only muddy guck and crying: “How I am supposed to be a mystic visionary with all this going on?”

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