Adventures in brick dust

Stage one of the 'get the hell out of London' scheme as started - the new boiler is going in. Work started yesterday as it's like a martian seaside in this flat. Every surface in the kitchen was covered in a thick layer of brick dust from where they've bored the new floo pipe through the external wall. Washing up liquid and tea cups left little halos when moved. Every footfall round the flat is recorded by an orange smudge. Just what you need when you are nearly five months pregnant (yes five in less than a week, can you believe it!)

The front room looks like the weirdest bring and buy sale, with old boilers fighting with boxes of pot and pans for space, tool boxes jostling with packed boxes. Poor Elsie the cat yesterday didn't know if she was coming or going! She howled at the drill and cowered at the commotion. To be fair though, she only did this when she knew we were looking at her, I think a lot of it was for show - it sure hasn't affected her appetite which normally is the first sign of her stress! Drama queen!

So, I'm currently boiling kettles to get enough of a dribble in the bath to have a wash. Fortunately the plumbers don't arrive until 10am each day, so I don't have to drag the bump out of bed too early! Aaaaah, this is the life eh? I'm just thinking, for living in carnage now, Dylan might get to be born in the homelands, the Midlands (well, technically the Shires, but Al gets cross when I claim that Worcestershire/Worcestershire etc aren't really the Midlands, you want something far more Midlands-y like the Black Country or Brum for that! But he gets cross, so I'll shut up!)

Elsie is not impressed by the works

Right, kettle's boiled and there's no cup of tea in the offering... where's my towel?