The drains in our new lodgings are a bit of problem. We took a well-deserved break from home making to watch back to back episodes of Downton Abbey. Midway through a deliciously haughty Maggie Smith monologue we turned to each other thinking the other had broken wind, the silent but deadly variety. Obviously, something very unpleasant had drifted across the room. I entered the bathroom to investigate and nearly fainted at the stench. Just as well Liam was on hand with the brandy to revive me. Mercifully, a few gallons of water liberally dosed with bleach soon cured the offending aroma.
Regrettably, rancid drains are the price we pay for living in paradise. During the hot, dry summers there’s just not enough pressure to push the shite through the pipe and back waft is all too common. That it has happened so early in the year is a tad worrying.