And having gone from the saga of the wiring (still unresolved as of this date), we move to the saga of the boiler, which decided to pack in about three weeks ago, and still isn't fixed despite the best efforts of Centralheatingman (an everyday superhero, or at least I'll consider him as such if he fixes the bloody thing - it's putting up a fight). I tell myself that it's a good way to appreciate what my parents grew up with, neither of whom, being born in the 1950s, had a centrally-heated house. Apparently my Dad and his brother used to yell "Mum, it's cold!" down the stairs on winter mornings, and I'm pretty sure my Mum once commented that she and her brother and sister used to put their school uniforms in the bed to warm them up overnight during the winter.
There is a reason everyone in my family got central heating as soon as we possibly could.