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Cadwell NOT Caldwell
Sniffing the bums of my visitors
[ 2 minute read ]
Opinion
There is a person coming tomorrow to do an EICR electrical safety check on my home. The UK Government has legislated that this must occur every five years in rented residential properties. I have had to chase the goats, chickens and geese out and I don't suppose a fresh layer of straw on the living room floor will be enough to show that I am keeping a good home. I shall need a shovel and a broom. Any electric leads that the rats and stray dogs have gnawed at will have to be hidden along with the appliances themselves.
I have just realised that I should probably have a bath by the fire tomorrow morning. And the Sunday best clothes will have to be brought down from the attic. I shall have to put some shoes and socks on to hide the foot and mouth, ringworm, and my fungus-ridden toe-nails. I suppose I shall also have to find another willow-twig to clean my teeth too.
Sometimes, I feel like I am living in the medieval ages. Dolts come through my front door like tax-assessors intent on discovering something about the occupant. The engineer will want to question me: 'No telly?'; 'No washing machine?'; 'No dishwasher?'; 'No microwave oven'; 'No electric shower?' Part of their job is to check for overloaded electric sockets or faulty appliances, and report this to the landlord.
The A2, A3, and A4 sheets of paper on the walls always causes visitors to pause in their conversation; the words written on them are disparate in their content and just give an impression of a messy mind, I suppose. I might as well leave a half-smoked joint in an over-full ashtray next to an open vodka bottle lying on the floor spilling its contents, since the overall impression is that my frugal and ascetic living smacks of someone with an addiction that robs them of their dignity.
The truth is I don't have the ego that we find in most people. I don't have a need to pose and posture, or be read or seen. I don't see people as either in, or out of my target market, of whom to impress, and I am not interested in matching their stories of how they live their lives. I eschew discretionary and optional goods that are luxuries I never need. In short I am not impressed with how people spend their lives and which metrics they measure their happiness with.
I want to remain silent during the inspection but I won't be able to. Being silent will cause the inspector some anxiety and I cannot allow myself to be the instigator of that. I shall be chatty and polite and the inspector will be further convinced that I am odd.
Oh well, roll on Friday.