In the wee small hours

I woke to the sound of a heavy breathing dog. He had moved. His fan (a dyson – yes I know, spoilt) was no longer cooling him down.

For my own sanity, I sorted it out: until he moved again. Then with morpheous ignoring  my pleas, I went to read the BBC news and catchup with the world of cyberspace.

Imagine my shock to find no Internet. I woke OH and apprised him of the issue. He collected his trusty steed (OK phone) and went to investigate.

There was the sound of breakers being switched on and off. A muttered expletive. He returned with more speed than Macarthur. “We have no sockets working downstairs,” he told me.

And rode off into battle again.

He’s just returned to grab an extension cable from our room. 

“I take it no joy?” I said in a manner reminiscent of an Alan Bennett monologue.

His returning look was pitying.