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Oh, how I’d hoped this would be the end of it. We have had circular saws cutting up concrete, and men up to their hips in the neighbours border garden covered in mud. Sometimes I catch myself looking out of the window wishing for “an outside job”, then I see what the reality of such a job would entail, and I’m thankful for my slippers, my swivel chair and the bloody pigeons.

So, once more the buck is passed. It’s back to Scottish Water again, and once more Frank is the man who we have to wait for. The company doing the digging this morning traced the leak back to beyond the border, which is what the sonic guy had determined the other day, but they had to cut up the neighbours path none the less. I’m sure our neighbour will be furious at the damage done to his path entirely unnecessarily, although I’m yet to speak to him, and he gave his ok to the process earlier on.

Here’s where it shows it’s so clearly ridiculous. We have to wait for Frank to come out again for some reason I’m not entirely clear on. Everybody is saying it’s Scottish Water, but they seem to have to send somebody out to check that holes have been dug. I’m hoping that processes are taking place between the neighbours insurance company, the company they called out, and Scottish Water, to ensure it gets fixed. However, I fear I’m being naive here: They’ve proved it’s not their problem, so they’ll wash their hands of it.

In the meantime, and as for the last two weeks, we are the ones with a stream across our front path, and a pond forming by the car. And all I can do is have my “frustration noted” by some poor sod at the call centre who was on the receiving end of my frustrations earlier, as she did all she could - which is simply to ask Frank to come.

Of course, when it’s all fixed and done, we’ll probably still have a pile of mud in our garden (nobody seems to want to fill in the hole in our garden, so muggins here will probably have to do it), and our neighbour a path with a chunk taken out of it for weeks whilst some fuckwit of a bureaucrat works out who’s culpable.

It really is enough to make you scream……….. If only there was anybody who cared for all the money I throw at the company every bloody year to flood my garden and risk my house.

BASTARDS!

(Right, deep breaths. I’m calm. I’m calm. Really, I am).