Whistling Jack Smith, remember him?

St Donald

Happy Birthday, Mum xxxxxxxxxxx

As I am writing this there are strange sounds coming from upstairs. Clonking, banging, drills and screwdrivers and the odd jolly whistle.

My Dad was well known for his whistle. I remember him coming home from work once on his birthday with a 'saucy' birthday card and a present from his colleagues. It was a packet of budgie seed. I never did know for sure whether he was highly amused by this, or slightly miffed. I remember thinking that he must have been deeply upset to be teased, but then I was at a sensitive age when I hated being teased. I don't think I ever grew out of it actually.

Anyway, I only mentioned that story because it is St Donald's day.

The noises from upstairs are from the two rather good looking and very polite (before you start Lizzie - in the words of Lilo Lil in 'Bread' I am NOT a tart!) young men who are fitting our new front door and the staircase. They looked at the hole in the ceiling and asked if their boss had been and seen this.

Of course I answered that he had and had taken all the measurements.

A little later, of course after Jon had gone shopping, I was asked if I happened to have about my person a rafter, about 7 - 8 cm thick, 60cm long and approximately 22 cm wide.

I had to check very carefully of course that I didn't happen to have one in my handbag, or better still, my pocket, but of course didn't find one. I couldn't call Jon and ask him to pick one up in the DIY store as he hadn't taken the mobile phone with him on this occasion, but the polite young man said not to worry and he would just make a 2 hour round trip to go and buy one.

Nice young man.

He's just got back with it and now it is all systems go on the staircase, the front door is already installed.

Do come back tomorrow for the photos.