Tuesday, March 17, 2009


Telstra tech arrived in the rain so took his boots off before walking on my carpet. Hahahahaha!

It was the point in the other bedroom. When he unscrewed the cap, the copper wires had oxidised to a lovely green colour. I don't know if he replaced them or not. He did something and said there might be a water leak in the wall so I should take off the covering every month and dry it with a hairdryer. He says water leak and I'm thinking cat leak and trying to remember how long ago little Sir Pissington passed to the big litterbox in the sky.

That cat determined that that room was his personal space and sprayed every surface including books, walls and desk. He was particularly adept at pissing upwards so that the underside of anything would be coated and because it couldn't be seen, it dried over time. Weeks later, the pungent wafting would begin and so would the search for the source. The sliding door that went up the side last week still had dried spots on it from where I couldn't reach to clean it. I kept the Nilodor and Fabreeze factories in the black. I finally moved the books to new bookcases and ripped up the carpet and he had done the job so well that the concrete took weeks to dry before I could put down new coverings. That was in 1989. Would it take that long for copper wires to corrode?

I'm not going on the roof to check the spouting which usually leaks over the front door. I will take my chances and use a hair dryer. It bothers me that I didn't ask if he'd fixed it. I was busy putting back the answer phone and connecting the internet. Memo to self: wipe the ex's handwriting from the memory buttons especially the number connecting to one of his girlfriends.

Then the van comes from the Op-shop and loads 20 years of craft magazines and anything else I could find that I don't need. I didn't know he would have a mate with him so I dragged it all out of the house so he wouldn't have a rupture but I think I did something nasty. It will go with the bruise on the left one which I probably copped when I tripped on a hole in the carpet while carrying a load of books. I remember pain and swearing and having to pick up the books.

Then Ma rings. Why haven't I called in with the groceries? Well that would be because it's Tuesday and I shop for her on Thursday. Yes, I'm sure it's Tuesday because yesterday was Monday and I remember the trauma of it all very well. Disaster sobbed down the phone in the morning. The pointy thing that goes in the square thing that plays the round things had broken and the round things wouldn't play. Translation, the plug from the transformer that goes into the player for the DVDs had finally given up the ghost after two years of Ma pulling it out instead of turning the machine off at the power point.

Nowhere in Southland stocks this particular transformer. I have to find the distributor and see if they'll sell me one. Thanks to the sweet young thing in Tandy who told me, very seriously, that I could just solder the copper wires (them again!) together. Do I look like the soldering type? To sweeten the blow I gave the old girl a custard tart for lunch but it was gloom all around as she lay staring at the ceiling before remembering she had a television to play with.

Phone call from the BrickOutHouse last night and all was well. He was a soldering type of person and had fixed it all. She'll still pull it out but he's wrapped enough tape around it so it won't matter. My heart sings.

And the eco-globe in the lounge room blew this afternoon. The replacement globe looks too big to screw in and I have to climb the ladder. Good luck that I didn't send any candles to the op-shop.

It must be in the stars. Stuff March, bring on April.


Brian Hughes said...

Copper wires? Have you requested an ancient monument order on your house yet?

JahTeh said...

Dearest Fleetwood, I am the ancient monument of the house.

Tech did mention something about new wires being plastic or something, I was busy plugging in the answer phone and hiding cockroach bodies.

Jayne said...

Got a cat like that, yes, could take decades for concrete to corrode and copper wires to melt into over-hanging spouting.
Grey Army should be cheap to clean spouting, tidy up tree limbs and hide bodies (human and cockroach) for you.

R.H. said...

Radio advert: "Square dancing classes are being held at the Presbyterian church Frankston.
Give Paula a call: 93891370."

I laughed.

Then I rang the number, and it's true.

R.H. said...

Sixty-three year-old Dodgy Davies and his thirty-eight year-old $250,000 heiress girlfriend, Mad Diane, paid $10,000 for a rewiring job on their broken-down dump in Beulah. If there was ever a case for the state trustees this is it.

Extreme People Inc.

River said...

I've never found Nilodor or Febreeze to be effective against anything, they just add an extra layer of odour. Did you know that desexed male cats don't spray?

If the wires continue to get damp, necessitating the frequent use of hairdryer, you may have to investigate the cause. A constant leak could be damaging more than the wires. You don't want your house to collapse around you-cos then you'd have to move in with-oh no!-mum.
Yeah, I know, cos is a lettuce..."because".

Jayne said...

Got the mail, J, thank you muchly, appreciate that heads up!!!!
Mwah xx

R.H. said...

My dear Lady J
There's been hell to pay
But your servant am I
And do humbly obey.
Just hear this plea
Miss J
There'll be another
I pledge my pen to
Lady J.

Neoclassically yours,

R.H. said...

A poet is not an automaton, he'll go round and round in a revolving door, but smash his own hole to get out!


JahTeh said...

Jeebus Jayne, I'm only 60. I should be doing all this stuff myself, pioneer style like my great great grannie who hauled a brood of kids over hill and dale, lived in a tent and helped chop fence posts. Even thinking about that makes me feel I'm underachieving.

Robbert, that takes me back to a place I never wanted to visit again. Primary school, sweaty handed boys and square dancing.

River, he was de-sexed but we couldn't cure him of this habit and it does smell if it's left long enough. We found out later, he had a tumour which affected his sense of smell. We called him 'Nome', an abbreviation of no name because we had so many cats, we couldn't think of another. Another wanderer up the garden path who stayed.

Jayne, I'll send you the number of the family plot. We're in the Catholic part right on top of Nob Hill.

Robbert, you are a true master of philosophy in poetry.

Lord Sedgwick said...

"I'm only 60" ?!

I had you pegged for a 70DDD.

(Fantasy'd be a fine thing.)

Middle Child said...

Okay...from now on for the rest of the year nothing bad is to happen to you okay...nothing... you trip often and so do I...what is that. I never used to. i have visions of my lying out here for days...dying...I pick my feet up...it may be my glasses...hmm