Happy Blogiversary!

It is official! I have sustained this blog for a whole year. Actually, the official anniversary date was 2 days ago, but I've been stuck in the attic for nearly a week now cleansing my tat and have completely lost track of time.

Fancy, though. A whole year of writing drivel. Entertaining drivel, I hope, but let's face it some of it was a bit weird. I've learnt a lot in that time vis a vis the wonders of networking across the ether. I can even put photos on my blog now. And add gadgets. Blogger holds no fear for me.

Today, I think I've broken two things. I say 'I think,' only because I am feeling too cowardly to go and check for certain. It's very hot in Kent at the moment and I'm not quite up to dealing with broken things. I'll wait until it's cooler and not so likely to lose my temper.

The two things I think I may have broken are Andy's paper shredder and the loft ladder. Today, I have been mostly shredding paper. After about an hour, the shredder made a clonking noise and stopped. It may have just overheated and once cooled down, will resume normal service. Our vacuum cleaner tends to do this. Stops, mid-vacuum, when it overheats. Much as I have done now, actually, only I didn't go 'clonk' first. I would have done, only there is no one here to hear me 'clonk' other than cats and chickens, and cats and chickens are remarkably disdainful of human exhaustion.

Anyway, I was very careful in my use of the paper shredder. I followed the instructions very careful - removing staples, feeding no more than 5 sheets through at a time, keeping my tie well out of the way, not immersing fully in water etc. Oh, it must have just overheated. Surely?

And the loft ladder? Well, the loft ladder has two struts that insert either side at the top, for what reason I know not what. I imagine it's for something to do with bracing the top of the ladder where it fixes to the loft hatch, but these struts are very flimsy, little more than those old wire coats hangers you used to get that left rust marks on your best blouse. Anyway, with me stomping up and down the ladder carrying various boxes for the best part of a week, the two struts had taken to pinging out of their holes. They were easy to put back in. That wasn't the problem.

By lunch time today I'd had enough of the loft and sorting stuff out. The PDSA man had been and taken away a veritable truck load of stuff, so I was feeling pretty smug about how much weight I'd alleviated from the house. I thought, stand back from the loft. So I descended the ladder, stood on the landing and was just pushing the ladder sections back up and getting ready to heave the whole thing back into the loft when the two struts popped out. The ladder will not fold properly with the struts popped out.

'Oh blow,' I said. I re-extended the ladder, climbed the ladder, re-inserted the struts, descended the ladder, re-folded the ladder and 'ping!'. Out they popped again.

'Oh bother,' I said. Down came the ladder, up went me, in went the struts, down came me, 'Ping!' went the struts.

'Oh for effing effing's sake,' I said. And so it contunued. Well, not for long actually because my boredom threshold for this kind of game is incredibly low. In the end, I got my wild up so much I managed to heft the ladder into the loft with its struts hanging out and I shut the hatch quickly thus avoiding potential fall-out. 'Hurrah for magnificent biceps thanks to my regular swimming sessions,' I said out loud, for despite there being no-one here to hear me other than cats and chickens (oooohh, deja vu!), I wanted them to know how relieved I was to win the battle albeit temporarily, with the loft ladder.

So I may have broken the loft ladder. This may facilitate me standing on Andy's shoulders, or Andy standing on my shoulders at some point in order to get the ladder down again and do something about the struts. I would say we'd use our outside ladder to get into the loft, only the outside ladder is IN the loft. We have a step ladder which may be tall enough and ...oh, I don't know, it's too hot and right now I don't really care. I'm sure the ladder and the shredder will sort themselves out eventually.

And finally, a plea to Andy's work colleagues. Please don't gaffer tape him to the wall again. If you do, there will be no more cake. Thank you, from me, Denise, Patron of the Gaffer Tape Preservation Society.