Odd jobs

Now the holidays are here, it is time to do one or two of those little jobs around the house that I've spent all winter promising Nevi I'd get round to. The washing-up, for instance. No, seriously, there are one or two tasks involving screwdrivers, spanners and (occasionally) hammers that are apparently my preserve. (Why this should be, considering how utterly rubbish I am at DIY, is a mystery.)

Anyway, today I am replacing a light fitting (I think that's the technical term for what I'm doing). Because this job will involve using a (metal) screwdriver and lights typically run on electricity, I have switched the power off at the mains. I could, of course, simply have switched off the circuit that the particular light is on, but that would have been to seriously underestimate my ability to select the wrong switch. I have also been told (by Nevi's father, who I have no compelling reason to believe wishes me dead) that it is possible to do at least part of the job without switching off anything at all as long as you know what you are doing. But I don't, of course. So anyway, the power is off and I am standing on a not-quite-tall-enough and slightly wobbly ladder waving a screwdriver in the general direction of the ceiling.

Meanwhile, the thunderous expression on Phoebe's face (having been told that she can't watch television until Daddy has finished) leaves me in no doubt that my electocution would be a small price to pay for her being able to watch Krypto the Superdog. Or at the very least, that my falling a short distance onto a soft wooden floor would be of no serious inconvience to me and would allow her to continue with her TV-watching activities. I nervously call for Nevi and ask her to keep an eye on the blonde peril...