Menoloopal; A Monday Mischief Post

Last week, those paying attention know that something took place on Monday before Aitch left the Hutch. Having had a most excellent Sunday, oot and aboot, we were pretty tired. We didn't rush on Monday, and although I awoke early, I did manage to lie until a little before eight o'clock. I was not at my best. Having not only had quite a bit of exercise and fresh air, there had also been the crowd at the quilt show to deal with. That small hall was PACKED! Never mind COVID stuff, I was never much good at close quarters with people en masse, and as Aitch noted, there did not appear to be any ventilation for the place. Thus I was dealing with a touch of claustrophobia as well. All this builds to a state of mental exhaustion that does take its toll.

image source; ClipArt

Thus, last Monday morning, filling the kettle for the essential first cup of tea of the day and being extremely groggy and, possibly, resembling a bear with a sore head, I thought it odd that I could smell gas. 

I checked the hob. All okay. I checked the cupboard with the meter - it seemed okay. Aitch entered at that point and agreed there was some odour that definitely didn't fit with Hutch's usual ambience. I checked the cupboard with the combi-boiler... definitely stronger there. I switched it off, and we opened the windows. I went to OctoKan to get hold of the power company's emergency number (silly me - if I'd looked at the meter properly, the emergency number was there... but... it was Monday, and Mischief was determined to play). Then OctoKan wouldn't let me sign on. After three goes, it was asking me to jump through security hoops. What The....?????!!!! I shut it down and started again. The mood was less than warm and poor Aitch wondered who this person was that had replaced her usually unflappable and friendly mate. The emergency number lady was also having a Monday morning, I think. That is the only reason I can afford her being so highly officious and condescending - not like the 999 services, where they are all caring and concerned. It was almost like she was accusing me of having caused any potential leak myself. The YAMster you all know and love would normally have let that all drip away, but not that day. The mood got blacker still. Aitch went and checked the stairwell.

The engineer was at the door in little more than twenty minutes from making the call. He was rather more cheery and quickly got to work on the diagnostics. After turning off the supply, it didn't take very long for him to find that there was still gas to be measured in the corner where the boiler resides. I could tell he was puzzled. He said he needed to go around all the immediate neighbours to check their situation. When he went out, I voiced to Aitch something that had occurred to me earlier - that the neighbour immediately below me may have left his stovetop on. A few minutes later, the engineer was back wondering if I had a contact number for that flat! I made the call and passed the handset to the bloke to discuss B's having to get back from his work. That took about an hour. 

Yes. B had left his hob burning, and the flame had gone out, leaving the gas to build up! I am not sure how that happened, as most hobs these days have a cut-out function if a flame drops. Anyway, that was the source of the problem, and everyone could breathe freely again. 

The adrenaline had really built up in me. After it was all done and signed off, Aitch and I sat with another cuppa, and I found I was shaking all over. I think having someone else there caused increased concern - but it also highlighted to me how, with age, I am growing less and less tolerant of having to think about home maintenance and such. Particularly being in a multi-dwelling situation. All of which added another little bit of grist to the mill of change looming between the Hutch and me...

image source; FreePIK