The bum basin - 7th June 2009

The soundtrack to my sleep was thunder and lightning so it wasn’t a surprise that when we got up the garage was full of water. Marianna was in the garage at some point while we were preparing breakfast and said she heard a snap, crackle and pop from our fuse box. There was a boom of thunder at the same time but since the fuse box looked perfectly normal when I made an inspection I dismissed this as some Greek hysteria. Moments later when I was in the garage there was a crackle and some sparks flew from the fuse box and I rushed to shut our electricity off. Typically, we have three fuse boxes so this took a second or two to figure out. There was also a smell that I haven’t experienced since my brothers and I tried to rev up and wheel spin Scalextric cars. The holes in the roof seemed no bigger, the rain no heavier so..… Had there been sparks flying about in the garage for the last few weeks whilst we were doing things indoors and for months while the house was empty? I looked up to see the drips of water emerge through the roof, grow larger and then fall onto exposed wires and sizzle.

I’m not an electrician. I think we all know that. I earn my living as a psychologist and know a bit about that but know more about eighties pop music. So, you can imagine how little I know about electrics. And plumbing. Carpentry. Roofing. I have put my life, our house and mostly my wallet in the hands of people who do know about these things. It always makes me nervous. Tradesmen sense this lack of knowledge and move a decimal place in their price. This is why when i buy a car i lift the bonnet, look underneath it, jiggle things, frown, look pensive, tut, shake my head, pretend i'm listening to the engine in a special way. That sort of thing. What i'm really thinking is 'Blue or Racing Green?'

For this disaster Marianna's dad was called. Takis, from Greece, recommended an expanding foam filler for the holes in the roof and a product for wet motor engines for the wet, smoking wires. Off we went to Homebase (again) and bought the foam filler and then to Halfords for the engine/wire/drying stuff. I often make the mistake of thinking that people employed in such stores have some knowledge of their subject but I’m always disappointed. The lad we asked about such products bent down and picked up some cans and read the labels and instructions which I've been capable of doing myself since i was 37. We returned home to spray the ceiling of the garage fairly randomly and sprayed the wires which, when the spray dripped off them, seemed like an odd idea. One of us is a stand back assess, read the instructions personality type. The other a dive in and get on with it type so there's never a dull moment. We left it all to dry in the hope that we might be able to turn the power on later in the day.

One of the reasons why we haven't really dismantled the pornier aspects of the house is that Marianna has invited many of her colleagues for viewings. On Wednesday Sandeep viewed the house. She took a measured, mature approach to it all and brought a lovely scented candle. On Saturday Helen and Marianne visited. The latter loved the bedroom with the mirrored ceiling a little too much and is probably now in discussions with an interior designer to recreate the entire ‘House of Porn’ chic in a property of her own. This afternoon we had a visit from Marianna’s colleague Bill and his wife, Hazel, and their children called boy, girl and slightly older girl. Hazel brought a home-baked cake. Normally I would only ask that people bring me the pleasure of their company but the cake was lovely so I would ask that all people I meet in future are carrying a cake which they then hand to me. The kids loved the house. A house of Porn can be a playground for all ages. They shouted and screamed with joy as they came upon each room and more and more carpet. They were fascinated by the bidet and asked their parents what it might be; a special sort of toilet? A basin for children and midgets? Foot washer? Bum basin? I think they regretted touching it when they found this to be the correct answer. And bum basin is how it shall be known from now on. They poked sticks in the pond, revealing that there’s a greater percentage of plant life in there than water. They then played hide and seek with great enthusiasm. I should have given them a list of things i still haven't found since we moved. They then, voluntarily, spent an hour cleaning out the wendy house and even took the net curtains from the window to lay them on the grass and brush them clean with a broom. Why we hadn’t thought of that I don’t know. Before departing the children had several goes at sliding down the stairs. “Don’t get carpet burns” warned Hazel. Probably not the first time that phrase has been uttered in this house.

When they’d gone we thought we’d try putting the power back on. And again there was snapping, crackling, flying sparks and, oh joy, smoke. So I faced the prospect of not being able to work tomorrow and Marianna not being able to bathe tonight. With a heavy heart we went to see Martin and Anne next door to see if they knew of a good electrician. One of their children (girl and slightly older girl) answered the door. Her parents appeared to be showering together. Least said soonest mended. I was very impressed with their house, which is all finished and clean and free from carpet and mirrors. They told us some new things about Basil (that he wasn't married in the time they knew him, since 1992, and his partner's mum lived on the top floor) and called their electrician, Tony. Tony arrived twenty minutes later. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy and said ‘Let’s have a look at this wiring’ instead of a more traditional greeting. Perhaps he was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Perhaps he considered a house without electricity to be a genuine emergency. Perhaps he didn’t like people calling him when he was eating his evening meal. Perhaps he knew we wanted to watch the final of ‘The Apprentice’ tonight. Half an hour, and a small fee, later he’d replaced some bits and pieces and the power was back on. Thankfully he didn't need to come indoors and discover that we're half a century behind with rewiring and still have round two pin sockets. While Tony worked, and now that it had been viewed by a number of Marianna’s colleagues, we dismantled some of the front bathroom. The urgency was to remove the carpet and thus remove the smell of urine. Aiming accuracy when urinating deteriorates with age and since Basil was in his eighties, that's a lot of discoloured carpet.

The carpet is now in the garage which smells strangely of urine.