W for Wife

Whilst I have no doubt that my choice of life-partner was one of my better decisions, I was clearly far too naive to think of writing a pre-nup, (in my defence I'm not sure they existed back in the day). Thus D for drainage comes under W for wife - this also covers P for plumbing.

Living in a city for a number of years the only plumbing required was dealing with the far end of young children. Things changed when we moved to the Celestial Swamp. Our predecessors were kind enough to leave us with lengths of detachable drainage rods, complete with a variety of 'ends', the like of which probably formed the basis for many a medieval torture chamber. Perhaps a warning light should have come on when we first noticed these stashed neatly at the back of the tool shed.

On this fine Jubilee weekend many are baking fairy cakes, chilling beer and firing up the BBQ; I have spent the afternoon up to my elbows in a variety of substances that, singly, are enough to frighten potential burglars; combined, and I'm amazed anyone has dared to cross the threshold in recent days. The assistance of the small dog, whose insistence on digging grit, chasing imaginary mice and chewing on wood had undoubtedly contributed to the problem in the first place did not help. On a muggy day and covered from head to foot to prevent said substances covering me, having a small terrier climbing up ones back, yapping and then treading in the offending backed-up drainage pool, didn't help! My only consolation was that at least it was above 0 degress celsius, wasn't raining and neither was it hours before a party, all of which has happened before - the latter during a memorable Christmas.

Job done, I have subsequently scrubbed my hands and arms several times in antiseptic, anti-gardening, anti-pong soaps, (I know there is no point in rubber gloves, yet insist on wearing them each time, only for the offending blockage to be so deep as to flow over and into the gloves). I've 'aired' my arms, left them a while and washed again and they are now covered in thick cream in an attempt to disguise the scent. The large dog, meanwhile, is busy sniffing round the garden for flicked up samples from the blocked drains, no accounting for taste!