He twiddled my knobs this way and that, then let out a jet of air.
No folks, I’m not talking about hot and steamy mattress mambo.
It was just the heating engineer bleeding my radiator.
Worried about heating bills, like many of you, I’ve spent the past few months indoors dressed like Scott of the Antarctic.
Three layers of jumpers, bootie slippers, and a woolly hat. Dead sexy dear!
I was having a toot to other residents that my radiator didn’t get very hot, and that’s when I was informed it needed bleeding.
So last Wednesday afternoon the heating engineer fixed it – in two minutes.
Whooppee, I had heat.
I’m a bit of a hoarder, so all that day I was bagging up junk and didn’t notice how hot my flat was getting.
By midnight it was like Beelzebub’s boudoir, hotter than the flames of hell.
And I couldn’t turn the heat down...aarrgghh!
I phoned the emergency number, they apologised, saying they couldn’t get a heating engineer there until mid-morning.
So how did I sleep that freezing night ?
With the windows open and a cooling fan on.
The radiator was fixed later that day.
Talking about hoarders – I was fascinated with Channel 4’s recent series Obsessive Compulsive Cleaners.
Clean freaks went into mucky junk-filled homes and transformed them.
It reminded me of The Cushion Plumper (my ma), because she used to be obsessed with cleaning.
But by middle age she also suffered from OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder).
We used to laugh about it, but it really wasn’t that funny.
I’d gone round to their house ( mid 80s), to collect Ma and Pa to go shopping.
Pa was already outside waiting for me. Ma was inside repeatedly checking plugs, taps, windows and doors (it took 20 minutes).
Then she appeared , smiling, at the front door and shut it. Then...she ‘beat it up’ to ensure it was shut.
Her OCD was the fear of fire or burglary.
Pre-nursing home and diagnosed with dementia, Ma forgot her leaving home ritual and often wandered off, leaving lights/cooker on and her front door wide open. Spooky eh .