Thursday, 14 January 2010
The Gas Man Cometh Again
I was hoping to post much earlier today. On Tuesday, Mr BritGas said he would have to get a new part for the water heating side of my boiler and that he'd arrive today, Thursday to fit it. 'Good', thought I. 'Then I can blog the concluding part of the saga'. Hmm - might have known he'd not be here at the crack of dawn, and indeed, it was just after 3pm when his blue van drew up outside my door.
It took him roughly half an hour to take everything apart, reassemble and test it, and I heaved a sigh of relief when it was all systems go, as opposed to only the warm air section that he'd sorted on his first visit, for I used the word 'roughly' advisedly. He was one of those bombastic workers who went at everything like a bull at a gate, while I cringed on the sidelines, praying he'd not end up doing more damage than good!
Anyhow, the day was looking brighter; snow was melting and Asda had delivered a mound of long-awaited groceries, at last. After closing the front door on the retreating form of Mr BritGas, I felt a poem coming on - like you do. For once I didn't reach for the back of an envelope and a pencil to scribble on madly, but sat before the screen and typed, slowly and neatly. Some considerable time later, I had twelve lines of carefully crafted iambic pentameter finished to my satisfaction. 'Right, time to copy and paste', I thought to myself. Then BOOM - I somehow managed to lose all but one line. Off it went to the great junkyard in the sky, and I lost heart, and walked away from the screen in disgust.
If it had been typical jinksy doggerel, I'd probably have been able to repeat it verbatim, but iambic pentameter is a different kettle of fish, especially to a Piscean like me.
It may, or may not, resurrect in some form eventually, but for today, enough is enough.
A dejected, thwarted poet I bid you all good night.
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I find I can never 'boil my cabbages twice' as my mother used to say. If I lose something, or if I make-up something on my way to the shops and then forget it while I'm shopping I can never be bothered to drag it back from Limbo! Who knows what precious jewels the world has lost because of this!
ReplyDeleteOh, we have all known the weight of this! Sorry!
ReplyDeleteOh jinsky I am sure it was another masterpiece that I would of so enjoyed....so glad that the groceries are in, the heat is on and you now have the blessing of hot water....so patient you are my friend....sleep well......:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteOh, Jinksy!!! I know exactly how you feel! I've done the exact same thing with songs, stories, poems....maybe that's why I still feel more comfortable with a pen and paper in my hand.
ReplyDelete;^)
Hope it all comes back to you after some rest!
jinksy you lost a poem but you've got gas! in the grand scheme of things i'd say you've done alright!!! a cosy warm toasty comfy night to you. steven
ReplyDeleteSo sorry about the loss of the poem, but glad you have heat Jinksy. Hope you had a good night!
ReplyDeleteDo you know that if you press the CTRL and the Z at the same time that you can often undo the last action? In fact, you can usually go back a series of steps. Most programs will do this.
ReplyDeleteOh, no. Sorry!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the scene here, the possibility of disaster still looming by the way you tell the story. Not to worry,weather has a way of changing.
You, lady, need WLW (Windows Live Writer).
ReplyDeleteVisit that link on my 'Help' site and give it a go ...
Cyberspace is aclutter with a lot of my things, too, jinksy!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that the gas man delivered your gas.
I look forward to coming back and reading your work. You are terrific, my friend....
Smiles,
Jackie
It does concern me about those tradesmen who rush the job often and ofte have to return again through carelessness and charge for a house call as well
ReplyDeleteYou should do what Rinkly does... sit there in your hair net, dressing gown and slippers with a
shotgun looking menacing reminding the plumber that you want things fixed properly.
Oh dear oh dear, luck is against you this week! It can only get better with the start of a new week on Sunday.
ReplyDeletePlease try and remember the poem, it sounds interesting already...!
Blessings, Star
I agree with steven: you done good! Could have been much worse. I ventured out by car for the first time in 9 days - and got stuck on the return, just yards from home, would you believe. It became a shovel job. Thaw had begun, but still some way to go!
ReplyDeleteHello Jinksy,
ReplyDeleteOh dear! I wasn't familar with Anvilcloud's bit of advice (which could come in handy) but was going to mention the undo/redo curled arrow icons that probably appear along the top of your page. Next time (heaven forbid!) clicking on undo should take you back one step per click and restore your words. Glad the boiler is fixed.
peopoplle say that this frigid weather is really hard on cars, furnaces, plumbing, but i surmise it is hard on legs, arms, heads, and in one case a woman who is only 66 died when she went out with the flu, asked to lay for a minute at mole wrt and upped and died, i was a nieghbor of this women, was just a kid...so i say i can take snow, wet, but i cannot tolerate, no i will not tolerate fridgid temps, as was said in lonesome dove<"there is just one thing i cannot tolerate , and that is rude behavior in a man" well the weather has treated us here rudely
ReplyDeleteGlad you have your heat back! But I'm sorry to hear about the poem. I hope you tried 'Edit- undo'! Or even 'page forward'.
ReplyDeleteI've lost a ton of stuff over the years. I'm now quite paranoid about saving frequently.
Well darn. I'll bet you're back to pen and paper now, eh? ;)
ReplyDeleteHehe, just chuckling at the title of your blog. My son is an anaesthetist and is often called 'the gas man'.
ReplyDelete