Nothing Is Ever Simple

For example, buying this new cooker, after the drop down grill door of it's predecessor dropped, and refused to un-drop... or in common parlance, would no longer stay closed. As I'd bought it second hand in 1992, it had done sterling work, and deserved its retirement.

But...

New safety rules and regulations meant a gas/electric expert had to disconnect the old appliance, as well as re-connect the new.

Perhaps you begin to see the logistics of needing two cookers in my kitchen at the same time, so that only one visit from the fitter would be needed? When a payment of £65 is charged for such a person to simply step across your threshold, you can see how the cost may escalate, if the whole operation isn't tackled like a military exercise!

However, after several unintelligible mobile calls from a non-native UK van driver, the cooker arrived late Monday morning, and a Little and Large duo carried in the appliance you see here in all its glory. They removed all the plastic sheeting and polystyrene blocks with umpteen wooden strut strengtheners, and left me with the untrammeled stove, and no wheelie bins stuffed with its wrappings. Bonus brownie points.

A local gas/electric fitter arrived at tea time to do his bit - only to discover the old bayonet gas pipework was so old, the modern replacement wouldn't fit. Off he trundled to the nearest supplier, but they'd closed an hour ago. He said he'd be back with the new part at 8am Tuesday, which left me with the happy prospect of having a pizza delivered for my dinner, as no way was I in a frame of mind to cook, even if I could. And he told me the end payment would be £105.00...

Eight o'clock on the dot, he arrived as promised and fitted this smug looking silver-coloured gadget, as befits a Silver Surfer like me. He also said he had a mate who would come later in the day to take away the old cooker at no extra charge. Another bonus. And I went to bed last night with dreams of cooking up a storm or two...eventually. Eventually being the operative word, for it so happened the length of electric cable supplied with the cooker was not long enough to reach my previous socket, and if I didn't want to permanently play put-and-take with my kettle plug, I'd need another one fitted in a better position behind the cooker.

For another £65 pounds, he'll come back next Tuesday to 'socket to me' ?! And I thought that would be a wrap.

But no. I was counting hatching chickens erroneously.  After lighting the grill to toast a currant bun this morning, as the fan started its automatic humming, a CLOUD of blue smoke and an awful scent of burning rubber blew out of the grill cavity, as I grabbed the pallid, un-toasted bun from its jaws.

The manufacturers will be sending an engineer to inspect my appliance in due course. And 'twas on a Monday morning that the gas man came to call, as the song says...