Boiler men in for a roasting

So after my return to commuting for one day, I could have murdered a drink when I got back home late, in fact well after 3 pm. It was not to be however, as the diet day decree denied a decent drink. I had to satisfy myself (wait for it, you innuendo hungry people) by further high intensity training on my bike followed by a walk around the Norfolk estate. I need to be as fit as possible for the up and coming over 60’s cricket in Cyprus next weekend.

At nets yesterday I had thought of asking for a runner on tour because of a still slightly dodgy ankle, but the dawning realisation that the whole team probably needs runners as well, made me keep quiet. I have just seen that the flight time next Thursday to Paphos is 7.40am. What kind of joke is that? It is only a few hours after bed time. I may just stay awake and go to the airport. It seems that there is the best part of about 30 of us going, and whilst I have to return on Monday, (can’t miss the Isle of Wight, apparently) the rest of the lucky blighters are out there for the best part of two weeks. However there is good news; the Sussex Seniors have agreed to become Currencies Direct affiliates, acknowledging that the best foreign exchange services are offered by those far-sighted chaps who encouraged me to start writing this daily column.

This scene is from the beach at Elmer Sands, but may resemble the offices of a certain boilers fitters if it still doesn’t work later today.

Today is a non diet day and I believe lunch is planned with Barry “Teddy Bear Times” King, magazine publisher extraordinaire. I am led to believe that in addition to the this erstwhile teddy bear publication, he also publishes magazines about crocheting, and dolls houses, but what else could he do to expand his empire? I shall be discussing the possibilities with him at lunch today. Maybe something for all those worm lovers out there? Maybe “Wombat Weekly”? What about “Accountants At Play”?

The plan at present is to visit The George and Dragon at Houghton, or maybe The Bridge or maybe The Holly Tree but frankly I do not care either way, as long as there is food, beer and wine available. As I write the arrangements are being discussed, and eventually the decision will be handed down. I shall expect That Nice Lady Decorator to be reaching into her rarely disturbed wallet, because I suspect I am being lined up for a big one on Sunday, as it is Mothers Day. I will need my biggest credit card.

Before that, this evening, we are booked in for the Drip Action Theatre performance of The Price Of Everything at the Victoria Institute in Arundel. I liked one particular comment on the email I received from Bill Brennan, the head honcho, saying the bar was well stocked and newly improved. I was more impressed with the stocking comment. This assumes that our boiler has been fixed and that I have not had to bail out That Nice Lady Decorator from the local jail. She has quite rightly been balling out the boiler company and their installers as the less than a year old central heating boiler has broken down three days in succession. I have become mildly riled by the situation, but I would not use the word mild for herself. I fear that the answering machine of the installers may have melted down under the hot torrent of abuse that is now in its memory, and awaiting the arrival into the office of the incompetent shower. Oh no, I used the word “shower”…

Chris France
@Valbonne_News