When I was printing labels yesterday evening I discovered the table on which the printer stands, situated directly underneath our gas boiler was soaking wet, and not for the first time. Previously I thought I had splashed coffee from a mug set down on my desk next to the printer. On closer inspection I found there was a leaking tap on the underside of the boiler, installed six months ago. Clare sent a message to Matt our heating engineer, who reported this to the manufacturer - it has a seven year warranty attached to it.
By lunchtime we were notified of a visit by the manufacturer's engineer, to rectify the problem hopefully tomorrow. The response is unexpectedly speedy, simply because Matt reported it on our behalf, otherwise it could have taken much longer. I succeeded in securing a drip tray beneath the leak, and in twenty four hours, it collected about 200ml of brownish water. How long it's leaked I don't know, but I hope it's only just started to get noticeably worse, or else we'd have a big damp patch in the corner of the kitchen below.
There were just four of us for the service at St German's this morning, as the school decided to cancel its annual Christmas celebration because of omicron covid spreading. It seemed strange to be back in the Lady Chapel for a relaxed quiet low Mass. My playlist of digital carol recordings compiled for next Sunday's Lesson and Carols, worked well on the church Bluetooth speaker. One less thing to bother about. After coffee and a chat, I drove home, then walked down to Eton Place, off Saint John's Crescent, where the new veggie bag drop box is discreetly housed in someone's front garden, and collected this week's order. It's further than the previous location in Conway Road, but that's not much bother.
Clare cooked lunch for us while I was out, then I started work on preparing next week's Morning Prayer video material in advance as it's going to be busy in the run-up to Christmas. It was sunset by the time I went for a walk in the park, but at least it was mild and not raining. Being out while cyclists are returning home from work isn't all that pleasant however, as the majority use blinding LED lamps to enable them to see ahead and ride faster. Unless they use no lights at all and risk not seeing pedestrians. It's almost better to wait until later when traffic has died down and there are only dog walkers and teenagers hanging out in the park, mid evening.
After supper I assembled the prepared batch of fifty plus Christmas cards, ready to post tomorrow, then watched a few more episodes of 'Crossing Lines', with nothing better to watch on live telly. The series continues to hold my interest because stories of organised crime groups with a pan-European reference, although fictional, represent current concerns. The third series aired in 2015, and nothing new since then. Did they run out of ideas? Or was the third series poorly received outside Europe as it was lacking in transatlantic interest? Despite entertainment newsfeeds on the web talking of a fourth season, it seems entirely speculative. There's no reliable source confirming that work has begun on this. I suspect that a cheap attempt is being made to start a media rumour to evoke a response from fans that will persuade the production team and investors they can make money out of a new project. Bizarre really.
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