Oh dear!

I'm sure you know the scenario: there you are staying at a friend's house and everyone else has left to go to work and you are there, by yourself, thinking of a leisurely morning while others are slaving over a hot something. So far so good.

You decide to have a shower, but somehow the shower isn't anything like the one's you're used to. You try to use your brain and think, 'it can't be that hard. The others have had a shower this morning and they managed no problem.' And so you turn taps... the first mistake... then you try to turn them off, but they seem to be stuck. You stand back and realise the second mistake... the shower head has been aimed at somewhere beyond the bath and the floor is beginning to soak. You then make the third mistake and panic.

You don't know this scenario? Oh well, that was the start for me this morning. And it wasn't a great one, no not at all!

The culmination was a phone call to the lovely Lizzie, who'd so kindly offered her hospitality to three of us who all used to work together, for dinner, fizz and a good old gossip about the old days and the new days. It was fun. I'm not sure that Lizzie was feeling quite so kindly after my panic phone call and, just as she'd promised she'd be over as quick as quick, the bloody taps freed up and danger was averted. I sheepishly rang her back to cancel the emergency and reassure her.

So, instead of spending my morning getting on with some work, prior to my meeting in Inverness this  afternoon, I've been using my time making sure all is back to normal and Lizzie can come home to her house looking the way she left it.

I know she said as she left, 'We must do this again and soon,' but I have a feeling by the end of the day, and after reading this, she might well have a rethink.