ONE OF THOSE DAYS

What a day!

On washing hands at midnight after a very late dinner (watching cricket on TV in another time zone) we find hot water coming out of the bathroom sink cold as well as hot tap. We take advice from big grandson (who has been an apprentice plumber for all of a month), use all water-based facilities then turn off water at stop cock and immersion heater at fuse box as can't get to airing cupboard where it lives, due to using room for storage of Xmas decorations, deceased parents’ effects and piles of what I would politely call ‘stock’ for next years’ charity boot sales..

Oh joy! Find plumbing insurance document but surprise! doesn’t seem to cover the issue we have. Anyway they say turn water off at mains as we suspected. And they make appointment for the morning. We spend hour or two lugging stuff into car and anywhere else available in this small crowded house. Then at silly o’clock we are scared out of wits in front room by a real live jumping frog which vanishes among aforementioned bags of jumble sorry stock and takes up residence somewhere under the television.

We consult interweb and lay dishes of water as suggested before going to bed at silly o'clock, where we lay on top of the duvet sleepless til rising at 6.30 a.m. to ensure not missing plumber whose slot is 8-12.

Already tired and grumpy, having no water to wash nor a flushing loo, I gingerly approach living room door which we had shut tight to prevent our Freddie escaping. I had provided a shallow dish of water for him - and there he was, sitting there waiting presumably for a passing breakfast fly.

Urged on by terrified OH, I creep towards him, towel at ready (to catch frog with not rub him down), but can't resist taking a photo, which not only turns out rubbish but also alerts Freddie who leaps back somewhere out of sight. It is unpleasantly evident however that he's been using the facilities. I re-barricade door and retreat.

OH ventures very unsteadily into attic to check route to tank is clear. This has been uncharted territory for about 30 years and is chock full of books, clothes, toys and furniture including prams. Our youngest is 32 so you can imagine. This results in the bringing downstairs of further heaps of what once were family treasures but are now in black bags and cardboard boxes dusty from decades of attic dwelling.  I seek further advice from my Bestie who, being a lifetime cat owner, knows all about frogs in the house and arrives whilst OH is trying to get out of attic. She holds ladder and he descends, grimy but whole.

Meantime Freddie has resumed position in bowl. Me and OH stay out of way whilst Bestie talks gently to frog, standing right next to him! He appears to be listening intently to her soothing voice telling him not to be afraid, she won't hurt him but will take him to a lovely new home. She tells him how beautiful he is and how loved, which I think is stretching it a bit. Next thing I know, she’s carrying him through the house out to the garden and announces triumphantly he's free. Everyone needs a Bestie like her. She will henceforth be known as The Frog Whisperer. My social media friends were agog. Never mind plumbing, frog in house is Big News.

Plumbers and electricians arrive soon after OH’s descent from above and do their business. I will gloss over the misery, arguments and inconvenience caused by the water heating problem, still not satisfactorily resolved, but we are now paranoid about leaving the back door open even in the sweltering weather of recent weeks, and feel uneasy sitting at the garden tab!e listening to the neighbours swearing at the barking dogs; hoping they are not scaring our Freddie, now hopefully settled in next door’s pond, into seeking refuge under our telly again.

Still, maybe in future we’ll look back on it all and laugh. Maybe. I guess it was just one of those days.

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