Welcome to my perfumed garden

Oh yes indeedy, damn stove played the same damn trick on us the old one would occasionally and, though thoroughly damped down as low as it damn well goes, churned out so much hot water the tanks boiled and the pump started screaming like a prize sow in labour. Only one option when that happens and that's to get up and drain off the hot water - scaldingly hot it was too, almost boiling. Made me weep to throw it away rather than magic it into a soothing bath but it was 3am, you know?

Never really got back to sleep.

Shattered.

Damn.

Or rather Mark's loaf since he made it. First produce of the new stove! Not a v good picture I'm afraid, done on the iphone via Twitter. I shall endeavour to do better as soon as the camera battery charges.

The chaps arrived from Hereford at the most un-godly hour of 7.30am but at least we got it all out of the way nice and early.

So the new!-shiny! is free-standing in the kitchen now till the builder comes back from sunning himself in Portugal to fit it, which is a bit of a pain but will have to be dealt with with fortitude and grace. It's very new! and shiny! and BLUE! and terribly exciting.

But OMG! Look at what we found when they brought the old one out! O:!!! Exactly like the wreck of the Titanic, but in slightly worse condition. To think we've had a fire going in this thing night and day for years.
 

( View with caution. Not for the nervous or easily offended )

Anyway, NEW-SHINY! is here, if far from up and running. Next up, Bolton Aga-Man arrives (hopefully), no doubt looking relaxed and tanned and does the thing with the cement and the plumbing and sets it all up so we can start cooking with it and picking the purty tiles for the splash back and put back the concealed lighting and - oh, everything. I can't wait to light a fire in her and start cooking (squeee!!!)

( See the shiny blue baby! )

And we found the long lost toasting fork down the back! It's all just win win win. *G*

 

Our new Aga arrives. Can't be connected and fired up till the builder returns from the Algarve but it will be placed on its wee plinth and...

Ah. It should be a thing of excitement and joy but instead I'm feeling sad and sentimental for the poor old rusting, failing stove that the Aga-boys will be taking away with them for butchery. Poor old stove. It's been in our kitchen since 1987. I feel like I'm having the old dog put down.

In other news, it would have been my Mum's 80th birthday today. I planted the massive Madonna lilies I bought for her 78th in our garden. They opened their buds today, blooming away and pumping out the perfume.

A day of sad nostalgia indeed.

Please to be keeping your fingers crossed that it all goes well tomorrow, so much could go wrong and lawks a lawdy my loves, the £££! O:

ETA: Re: Byron. Good heavens above, Rupert, darling, not everything is about teh gay. Calm down dear! It really doesn't take much to get the dear boy going, does it?

And omg it's enemas now!  And that Versace woman. What's up with her face?! O:!!!  She's had 'work' done hasn't she? She looks like a Lady Penelope doll that's spent time in a slow oven.

Nice arse but what are they doing to his poor dick? It sounds very painful. Clearly a man dedicated to his art. ::nods::

And we end on Byrons perfectly preserved, massive pickled erection. Most enjoyable.