Drive home from work after leaving two blokes there this morning to fit a new hearth, change a chimney pot, drop a flu down, seal it up and fill with insulate and go.
Was on the M6 thinking of red wine, warmed by the flames and sat next to my little daughter.
Not to be.
Came home to the whole downstairs with a nice layer of soot, he'd gone, wife and toddler came home and subsequently got black feet and hands. It's everywhere, in the clothes, pictures, toys, what an arse.
Why can't you get good tradesman. Approaching 4 figures, Hetas registered, recommended, but a mess. It's going to be interesting meeting him tomorrow to "discuss" the bill. He said when I rang that there may be a little dust to Hoover up. UNDERSTATEMENT of the year!
(Maybe he thought I owned a second home in his village?)