2nd March 2014

The French have a phrase: 'ca ne s'arrete jamais' - if it's not one thing, it's another.  Him indoors had just come home from hospital and needed warmth and calm. Son Jon was here too, so I needed all to go well.  Well, sod's law crept in.  The electrics shorted. No lights, no heating, and it was Sunday.  What to do?  I knew Marchoud, a local user-friendly plumber/electrician, but could I disturb him on a Sunday?  I remembered that he was Muslim and only didn't work Fridays, so maybe...  I went and fetched him.  Torch at the ready, he surveyed our Tableau fuseboard. Wasn't impressed. But, by dint of one by one elimination (or illumination!), he found the faulty fuse and voila the lights returned. But the heating?  Non.  Our boiler was at least 50 years old, and the now broken pump was obsolete. A new boiler would cost at least 5K euros - oh no. But, I hadn't reckoned with Marchoud's genius. Trying first Toulouse, then Castres, then Lavaur he eventually found a pump that was close to the size, then cleverly adapted it using greased hair and a blow torch. So, enfin, we have heat again. Merci Marchoud. And Him indoors, humour still intact: I've got everything going for me - my sight's going, my teeth, my hair...