goodbye fusewire - kitty nesbit
So there I am with a torch in my mouth and my nice new IKEA stainless steel knife, which is trying to be a screw-driver trying to rewire an old fuse.
And, of course, I've never got the right fusewire. There's always plenty of the 30 amp and never any 5 amp left. So what do I do? Well, I do what I have to when it's Friday night and my new bloke's just rang to ask what wine to bring from the posh shop at the bottom of the road. I mean, there's a place and time for a lit candle and hot wax but it's not in my kitchen under a big saucepan of spaghetti bolognese. And anyway, won't my lights just glow a little bit brighter with the 30 amp fusewire?
I'm joking of course, but you get the picture. I go to my friends' houses and from Queens Park to Poets Corner they've all got rows of obedient little trip switches on their 'consumer units' with lovely thoughtful labels proving just how in control they are. When their lightbulbs expire all they do is flick a little switch and get back to the Sancerre. I bet the tips of their IKEA knives aren't chipped and chewed. Envy isn't in it.
Still, I expect I'll muddle through. I'll grin and bear it and live with it and when I come to sell it'll be someone else's problem. Unless of course they ask their lawyer to ask who put my kitchen in or who installed my bathroom spot lights and when. Then when I can't produce any paperwork, they'll firmly suggest I have the electrics checked and if I don't agree they'll smell a rat and if I do they'll find one.
So, I'll end up paying for a new consumer unit and an inspection and any remedial works anyway ... only it won't be for my benefit. I'll be in my new place by then, sitting with a torch in my mouth and my nice new IKEA stainless steel knife ...
Kitty Nesbit