What a joy warmth is. You can see why it was such a step forward for man to discover fire all those years ago when caves were the des res in the property market.
My house has her heart back. The Aga beating away in the kitchen after it's all out heart transplant yesterday morning, made staggering downstairs this morning so much less of a shiver and more of a joy.
Aga Man was here as planned and spent two hours in intensive surgery with my poor Aga in pieces on the floor. Nuts, bolts, burners and screws, the pile of debris outside the machine grew. Meanwhile the Aga emptied her wares till there was nothing left. Just this huge iron box with four empty ovens and a completely empty box where it's fire breathing heart should be. Like an ocean going liner with nothing in the engine room.
Aga Man chats as he works, he is funny and entertaining, throwing in snippets of information as he tinkers with the new heart that will replace the old worn out device. He loves Scotland, fishing and Monty Python movies, has been propositioned by lady Aga owners, and laughs with a disarming charm at how he almost ran away from these houses.
I sit at the table, laptop in front of me, notes and books all around, totally distracted, not working at all, laughing and jesting back.
The Aga is fixed, the warmth is back in the house. Chilis are drying, pine cones opening in the oven, apple rings swaying above. That's right Karon, get all the herby stuff done first before thinking of normal foody thoughts.
Foody thoughts were on by tea time and we were back to firing on all cylinders and cooking with gas!
Thank you Aga Man.