After walking to mother's (small m for murder) and getting rained on (I knew I would) it turned into another one of those days where nothing went right.
The big chimes nearly cracked the front window. Chairs, table and bucket ended up in the yard. My little glass lanterns went but only one had the glass broken.
Then the half-flush toilet decided to have delusions of grandeur and turn into Niagara Falls. Full flush turned the water off but not the half. After giving it a good thrashing, ala Basil, it still flowed and flowed.
There are times when one does stand and feel like an idiot. When one takes off the lid of the cistern and nothing..... I mean what do you do with a cistern, besides swearing at it and asking it what's wrong.
A bit of a poke provoked Niagara again. Poking the other end brought on bubbles and a gurgle.
So I looked a bit further in. Memo to self, never, never do that again. There's an ecosystem in the cistern. I have enough trouble cleaning the bowl. Who cleans the cistern?
So look upon me, destroyer of worlds inhabited by strange little algae things. Half a bottle of White King, the cleaning woman's version of Napalm and the cistern should be right. Should be, because I'm not game to look.