Grubby

So we've moved into the new house. I'd say it's very nice, but that would be a lie right now. Chances are it will be nice in a week or two, but right now if I had to pick an adjective it would be cold.

The plumber was supposed to come and connect the gas to the boiler last week, but as is the way with plumbers, this didn't happen. The next available slot is a week today, which means we have no hot water and no heating. Typically, winter has finally arrived after months of unseasonal mildness- the temperature got down to minus three last night. Still, I guess that's what shared body heat is all about.

More problematical is keeping clean. Washing your hands in cold water is not much fun at the best of times, and these are far from they. I'm still putting in full days of hard labour trying to find a house in all the wreckage, so I've grown accustomed to a certain amount of personal grubbiness. If I smell bad, the Horse Doctor is polite enough not to mention it, but when your hair is matted thick with cement dust, the call of hot water and shampoo becomes ever harder to ignore.

Communication is by proxy at the moment. I've been able to leave the answering machine in the old cottage, along with my wireless router. Fortunately I didn't rush to cancel either broadband or phone accounts, and so remain more or less connected to the outside world, albeit with a mile walk each way. It's better than nothing, and it gives me the opportunity also to have a shower.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to get clean. At least for a while.