Cooking on 4 smoking rings

Ah yes, we have four rings, but they smoke. Is bit unnerving as grey spirals of smoke waft ceilingwards to meet non-existent smoke alarm in kitchen. However, oven does appear to work, that is to say, it heats up..........eventually. Think landlady and husband are definitely taking the piss if you will excuse the vulgarity. They are an odd couple, the first time we met I had her down as a jovial hausfrau with rosy cheeks and hearty manner. This time, as her grumpy spouse heaved the new (ahem) cooker into the kitchen, she revealed to me that she had been very poorly since Christmas, in fact she hadn't been out since Boxing Day. She did look a bit pale, and her demeanour was subdued. They seemed to deeply resent providing the cooker, God knows where they found it, it has a door of a different colour to the rest of it, (this is not a designer door), and someone has painted the top with what appears to be white emulsion. Then as we watched Grumpy Husband fiddle with the electrics, she told me she hadn't agreed with the agents to the amount of rent we are paying! As I was standing with mouth open, husband whisked open oven door, and stuck for something to say, I commented how clean the oven looked. He replied that it wasn't clean when they got it. I am certain they found it on the local tip. As to the rent, this will have to be addressed.

Part Three of Previous Two Blogs

Yes have unfortunately been whisked away from Blog in uncermonious fashion and am now determined to complete Part Three without further interruption.
As I was saying, (what was I saying?) oh yes, Three is trying to make me shop at Liddels supermarket, and I have tried. Liddels is cheap, yes. Their fruit and vegetables are wonderful, yes. But. And it is a big but. All their groceries are laid out on pallets in most unappetising form. No attempt to seduce the customer whatsover. Am used to Sainsburys, where can browse and be enticed by new and exciting grocery opportunities. So small battle has commenced, which at the moment, I am winning. We shop mostly at Sainsburys, even though Three follows me round in manner of small black thundercloud expressing horror at prices. Every now and then I manage to shake him off, but he always materialises behind me just as I am deftly popping some exorbitantly priced item into my trolley. He got his revenge though by squashing my Angel Cake under a bag of potatoes.

Must make small confession here. Popped into Liddels the other day, bought large Hovis, bunch bananas, large thingy of milk, crumpets, scotch pancakes, and something else, can't remember what. Came to just over three pounds. Didn't mention this to Three. He could be right,

The Joy of Reconnection resumed

See? Have managed to lose first part of this post, then by sheer luck, found same and published it. To continue. Parts of back gates flew away in Night Of Great Gale, and are presumably nestling in a hedge elsewhere in Derbyshire. Along with shards of greenhouse glass.

Other small problems with cottage include, rather grubby carpets, grate that is broken, no door between kitchen and bathroom, although mercifully there is a door on bathroom. However am sure should be another door between kitchen and bathroom door. Used to be one there, but have discovered same in one of many outbuildings, scored with scratches from what appears to be dog. Forgot to mention also no working grill on cooker, was informed by landlady that this was also attacked by a dog. Is it me, or does this strike you as extremely unlikely? How many dogs attack grills? Maybe there was a particularly succulant piece of meat grilling at the time and he/she was driven mad with desire. Paws for thought. Succulant or succulent? Both look wrong.

However, property looks okay at night when its myriad faults are concealed by dint of Low Lighting. Apart from overhead light in living room, into which Three has inserted, for reasons only known to him, a red light bulb. Is like sitting in first circle of Dante's Inferno. Limbo.

Three is still trying (with limited success) to

The Joy of Reconnection

Am back online. Has been very difficult being without Internet access, but thanks to Long Suffering BT Technician, whom I abused verbally I am ashamed to admit, I am back surfing in the ether. A lot has happened to me in the interim between having Internet and The Joy of Reconnection. I am now living elsewhere in Derbyshire with Somebody Else. Two has been supplanted by Three. I sincerely hope that Three will prove to be Third Time Lucky. Two is not particularly unhappy about this, at least I don't think he is. We are still in touch and hope to remain friends in best tradition of Life Is Too Short and similar cliches. Went back to house the other day to collect spare telephone in anticipation of getting landline in new cottage, and discovered Two has re-arranged living room in somewhat startling fashion, ie. a bit of a mess. He was however cooking his supper and appears to not be wasting away. Is all very strange.

Am now living with Three in cottage with beams in living room, very low beams- very low ceiling. Good grief, had trouble spelling 'ceiling' or is it 'cieling'? No not cieling, i before e except after c. Am going mad. Senile dementia. Ga Ga. Natural progression. Have been doing crosswords on regular basis to keep grey fluff up to snuff, but haven't written anything for some considerable time. Hence have lost confidence with spelling. Also having trouble putting words together. Is not good.

Cottage also has large kitchen in manner of Old Farmhouse, but sadly the worktops and cupboards are probably Very Old and Tatty Farmhouse. Ditto the cooker, which sports four rings, only two of which are working. Have been juggling pans on top of stove, but am resigned to being forever Two Ringed. Landlady has been round, (also have impressive amount of rainwater pouring in through roof into upstairs wardrobe), and she assures me that She Is Onto It. The cooker that is. Apparently reconditioned electric cookers are scarce as hens teeth in Derbyshire. Her husband who is a 'Handy Man', disappeared upstairs on Christmas Eve Day to investigate and repair (ahem) roof. We had collected a large amount of water in saucepan and bowl the night before, when gale force winds and torrential rain battered us. At some point during the night we heard above the steady trickle of water into the wardrobe, a faint sound of smashing glass as the wind whooped and wuthered around us. 'There goes the greenhouse' said Three with admirable restraint. He was right. A pane of glass had been blown clear away from what was in truth already a ramshackle erection. The huge and flimsy gates at the end of the property have also met with some structural damage during the night, as most of the top of them had also parted company and been blown away across the