I have just splashed out (quite literally) on a new power shower. My cup runneth over. A bit like the shower pipes above the airing cupboard which have been leaking for a goodly while, making the towels on the top shelf
of the airing cupboard ever so slightly soggy whenever I use the boost function on the shower.
I’ve had to wait a couple of weeks for my new shower to be
installed though I was advised I could keep enjoying my morning shower in the meantime, provided I didn’t shower for longer than two minutes and didn’t boost the flow of hot water. These restrictions have made my morning ablutions rather less joyful
than usual but at least I haven’t had to forego the pleasure altogether.
This morning Mr Aqualisa turned up just after 11 a.m. having rung five minutes earlier,
as per agreement, to let me know he was on his way. He was one of those delightfully undemanding workmen who require very little from their client / customer / appreciative householder (please delegate as appropriate) - I let him use my small step ladder (he
could have fetched his own ladder from the van but apparently it was rather large. The ladder, not the van, don’t be silly), fetched him the pole with which he could pull the loft ladder down from on high, showed him where the bathroom was and then left
him to it. I did ask if I was allowed to offer him a cup of tea or coffee but he said not to worry, he had just had one and was watching his coffee intake. “Ah, yes, indeed,” I said, knowingly, for all the world as if I, too, who has never been
known to refuse a cup of coffee, like ever, was also carefully watching my intake.
In line with my customary efforts to learn at least one interesting fact about
visiting workmen, I discovered that, many years ago, Mr A went to the same secondary school as My Boy though they didn’t cross paths as he bade farewell to the establishment a year or two before my son entered its portals. It was good to make a connection,
though Mr A seemed more interested in connecting pipework than my family history.
An hour later, the work was done and I was given a brief, but informative, training
session on the Outlet Controller, the Adjustable Head, the Flow Rate and the Wired Remote. Hopefully I will remember some of this information when I jump into the shower tomorrow morning. To be fair, it is a long time since I jumped anywhere but for some reason
it’s what I tell Mr B every morning when Donna the carer turns up: “I’m just going to jump in the shower,” I say. It’s my precious daily hour of time to myself and my new shower is going to make it all the more enjoyable.
Mr A helpfully offered to take away with him all the packaging and old shower fittings to save me a trip to the tip. This was thoughtful of him, given as I wasn’t sure
when or how I might have disposed of it all otherwise. We had a quick conversation about the incidence of fly-tipping as we went downstairs and then he was gone, leaving me with a clutch of documents which he described as “the paperwork.”
I sat down to read the paperwork over a cup of coffee (I hadn’t liked to have one while Mr A was around in case I was putting temptation in his way.) One brochure in
particular sounded really exciting, inviting me to join the Aqualisa Installer Club. Honestly I was tempted because in these days of the Pesky Pandemic there seem to be fewer and fewer clubs open to new members. What’s more, this club offered “exclusive
benefits and rewards” which sounded extremely promising. Unfortunately, on closer reading it became clear that this exclusive club was for installers, rather than householders - there was a clue in the name, now I came to think about it.
I turned to the User Guide which suggested I should download an app which would enable me to switch on my shower remotely. This was an exciting prospect except that I couldn’t
imagine when I would need to do this. Would it mean that in future I should switch on the shower, via the app, at the same time as making my morning announcement to Mr B so that the water would have warmed up to my chosen temperature by the time I had climbed
the stairs? I mean, when would I have time to collect my bath towels and check whether I’d lost or gained weight since yesterday?
The Youngest of the
Darling Daughters has messaged to remind me that there is no reason why I have to wait until tomorrow - why don’t I give my new shower a test run this afternoon? Excuse me, won’t you, if I just go and jump in the shower?
Metaphorically speaking of course...