When we moved from our semi to our first bungalow (the one with the supermarket directly behind us), a lot of our stuff remained boxed up in the garage until we’d got ourselves sorted and decorated throughout.
We actually had plans for the property, but it would all take time (and money) so would be a gradual process as we didn’t want to take out loans to do it.
The bungalow had two bedrooms, a lounge diner and a third room that wasn’t really good for anything as it had two doors in it, one from the hallway and one into the second bedroom. Access to the other bedroom was through the dining area.
This was because the property had been extended on two separate occasions by different builders. One had utilised the original back door for entry to the new room, and on the other side, a picture window had been taken out and replaced by a wall and doorway into the extension.
In the beginning, we put a new back door in the third room, and used it as an office cum music room as it nicely housed my piano in later months (actually, it was the only way to get it in).
We had finished decorating, and Hubby was putting in the last screw of the final shelf, when disaster hit, or rather he hit a water pipe!
It didn’t make any sense, as we could see the central heating pipe going through the wall on one side and out the other.
Ah, although the pipe went into the wall, it actually went up into the roof, across the beam and down the other side, not straight through it.
I pride myself that I didn’t panic.
I calmly went to turn the water off and got a bucket whilst Hubby did his Dutch Boy impression.
The phone rang.
It was Bro (in NZ), could Hubby advise him on fitting an electric cooker.
Hubby yells across the room
‘Only if he can advise me how to resolve this bloody leak first!’