You’ll be pleased to know that there were no further problems following the power outage my street suffered on Thursday afternoon. I did awake on Friday morning, however, to see that the huge cavern in the pavement, following the path being dug up, remained.

While enjoying a morning cup of coffee and breakfast, some workmen turned up to repair the damage. At first I thought an earthquake had struck or a tyrannosaurus rex was on the loose, as without exaggeration, the house was shaking!

I climbed the stairs to the landing, so I could look out the window at what was happening. Men in fluorescent jackets bashed the pavement with all kinds of heavy-looking, loud machinery. Their vehicle – a huge truck-cum-digger – was parked in the road. I don’t really know what it was, although suspect it was some kind of Transformer, capable of morphing into a robot.

The commotion didn’t last long. It appeared that the path had been fixed and the men got into their Transformer and drove off. All very well and good, but they let behind all the plastic fencing. What’s worse, it was dumped on our lawn! Did you ever hear Bob The Builder say “Can we fix it? Yes we can, but I’ll leave all my fucking rubbish behind when I’m finished”. No, he did not. Bob saw the job through, from beginning to end, in just a 10 minute episode.

Long term readers of my blog will know I am not Mr. Greenfingers. I don’t do gardening. In fact, the grass outside the house has been known to overgrow on a number of occasions. I have also spotted the odd nasty looking toadstool sprouting up every now and then. That’s not the point. I may be cultivating fungi on the lush meadow outside my house. Dumping all manner of roadside fencing could have seriously damaged my produce.

The fencing was later removed, leaving the marshland to flourish, while continuing to provide a public toilet for the local cats and dogs.

The street where I live was plunged into madness yesterday afternoon, when the electricity was turned off for all the houses, so essential maintenance could be carried out. I was told by an electrician that we would be without power for two hours, although it could be more, it could be less. Marvellous. So basically, they’re turning off our electricity and don’t know how long for.

I observed from the landing window, as they dug up the pavement. Fellow residents also watched from their windows. It was the biggest drama to happen in our street since a random, unknown dog was set loose from a neighbouring estate and fouled on our lawn.

The electricians made hard work of digging up the pavement, although that is understandable – it is made of solid concrete, after all. With the power off, Claire and I wondered how we would cope. What would we eat? How would we wash? Would we survive the night? I’m not being over-dramatic, but it was a very scary situation!

Power was restored about half an hour later, allowing Claire to have a shower and me to eat sausages for tea. There is still a gaping great hole in the street. Luckily it is surrounded by barriers, to prevent any little old ladies, or me, from falling into it.