Safe in a ditch...?

It is safe to say that this week has not worked out as I expected it to.  I had great plans to visit Sunderland University Library on Wednesday to do a lot of writing and quite a bit of reading.  Only I reckoned without the Gas Board who, in the process of digging up my little quiet terraced street to lay new gas mains, also went a bit 'gung-ho' with my front path and effectively barricaded me in by digging a two-foot deep hole directly outside my front door... without telling me!

As if that wasn't enough, my existing gas pipe was inspected, deemed unacceptably narrow - 3/4 inch rather than 1 inch - and there was talk of having to drill a hole in the outside wall - which necessitated me moving a bookcase (and the 70 books that live on it) and quite a bit of Shakespeare memorabilia which is in the porch.  It appears now that the issue wasn't quite as bleak as was painted and the bookcase could've stayed put...

The gas workers hadn't brought any boards to cover the hole (!?) and they made the very unhelpful suggestion that I use the back door instead.  Since access to my backdoor is down a dimly-lit back lane, where ghoulies and ghosties are known to lurk, I decided to wait till the coast was clear and then embrace my inner FRB. Thinking of his pole-vaulting into Harfleur in Henry V, I valiantly 'jumped' the space (having first removed the hurdles - I know my limitations!) to make my escape.

Unable to settle to anything with all this going on, my blissful writing day evaporated into indulgence in much comfort food and whinging to anyone who would listen to my woes.

Two days on, my gas is currently disconnected and I'm sitting feeling sorry for myself whilst hoping someone will come and fit the new pipe back to the meter...

A somewhat larger hole is also preventing me from reaching my garden which is directly opposite my house. The sharp-eyed may notice some vulgar (and non-Shakespearean!) graffiti added by local youths, I suspect, which appropriately sums up how I feel about the whole situation this week... 

I had started to write a much nicer post about books and another one about Garnet Holme, but they will have to wait till the crisis is over and I can at least put the heating on again!

Confined to barracks, I've created a little Bensonian corner with copies of a few postcards on one of the cupboard doors next to my desk.  The hope is that the Bensons and Bensonians will smile down at me when I'm feeling 'in despair with fortune.'  

Seriously hoping for some better days next week...!