Just call me Mario!

He's a plumber, right?

I have to admit I am not quite up to speed on the whole 'video' game thing (I know they're not called that any more, but my involvement with such things started with Space Invaders and ended with Pacman.  All that excitement was too much for me!)

So why Mario?

No, I haven't grown a magnificent moustache (though what with the deteriorating eyesight a) that could be next on the agenda and b) if I had, I probably wouldn't be able to see it anyway, not unless I got out my magnificent LED magnifier I showed you yesterday).

No, I haven't taken up dungaree wearing.  I was a keen wearer of dungarees in my sixth form days but all that faffing with straps and bibs would be far too much of a hold-up these days, if you get what I mean...

No.

What I have been doing is a  little light plumbing!

On Sunday, we had some very lovely friends over for Sunday lunch, and whilst preparing the meal I became aware of the fact that there was water in the cupboard under the sink.  Just a little.  

We were busy.  

I did tell Mr U-t-B, especially in view of the fact that he was heading into the wide blue yonder (well, grey and white actually for he is up a mountain again) for the week, but it was only a few drips and he said he'd look at it when he got back.

Anyway, today the drip turned into basins-full,  a drip of mop-it-up-every-few-minutes proportions, the sort that oozes out of the bottom of the cupboard and threatens to wash you away (okay I am exaggerating here, just slightly).  Bloomin' typical!

I rooted around to try to find the source of said gushing water, and discovered it to be the waste. 

I undid the joint that seemed to be leaking...

...and discovered a black smeary mess and a very perished washer!

 I had two choices - settle into a few days when the dishwasher could not be run and no washing up could be attempted, or use that marvellous invention, the mobile phone, to contact Mr U-t-B and see if he could give me a down-the-mouthpiece tutorial.

I set off down the road to the plumbers' merchant (taking the perished washer with me) and came back with this one...

I could probably have figured it out myself, but I was glad to have my hand metaphorically held via the phone.

Within minutes, the waste was back together, and seems to be drip free!

All for the princely sum of 50p, and a couple of phone calls!!

How's that for a bit of excitement?

I think I'd better go and do some stitching to calm down!