helenandjo.com

I am back from my first plumbing lesson. I have learned how to join bits of pipe together with compression fittings as well as cutting pipe with a pipe cutter. I was one of two women on the course and was paired with John, a quantity surveyor. I am pleased to say that I completed the task we were set quite efficiently and my joined-together pipes were only a little wonky. Also, I have learned how to ask for things in a plumbing shop. You must always say the size first otherwise people will laugh at you. You must say “15 mil straight compression fitting, please” and that way you will seem like a genuine plumber. Compression fittings include little copper rings called “olives”. But sometimes olives get squashed so you need some “fresh olives”. Cue laughter all round.

Next week we tackle soldering using fittings known as “Yorkshires”.

Helen and I went on an exciting trip to Foxfordshire yesterday. We had to get up at 4.30am as Helen was producing the breakfast show on Ox FM - the number one radio station in the whole of the county. I helped out by making tea and tidying Helen’s desk. Then we toured some villages and had a cream tea before heading home. It was training for when we are elderly spinsters like Miss Marple. We were on the motorway when I realised I had lost my favourite cardigan. Cue lengthy detour to retrieve cardigan. Life is never simple.

In other news: I start my plumbing course today at Sparrow Skills Centre. I will let you know how it goes.

I went out to vote for the second time this morning. It was easy choosing who to vote for to be London mayor - it just had to be Ken. I am fond of Ken because he likes newts like Gussie Fink-Nottle in PG Wodehouse. It was much harder choosing who to vote for to be a London Assembly member. Normally I would vote Labour but the candidate is the leader of Sparrow’s Labour group and has promised to resign if he gets in. This means my dad, who is deputy leader, will be forced to become leader and he doesn’t want to do it. I was therefore forced to do a tactical vote for the good of my family.

Press officers are the sworn enemies of journalists. A journalist’s job is to fight for truth and justice whereas press officers model themselves on weasels.
I had a row with a press officer yesterday. To cut a long story short, she sent out a press release and then took SIX days to respond to my simple questions about it, long after the deadline that I had clearly explained.
I told her the delay was “a bit of a joke”.
She said: “This conversation ends now. I can’t believe how incredibly rude you are.”
I said: “I am not being rude, merely pointing out that it doesn’t normally take this long to get answers to some simple questions about a press release you sent out.” Ha!
This is the kind of idiocy I have to put up with every day.

I went out to vote today. I had my coat on and my polling card in my bag - and had even turned over a new page on our guinea pig calendar - when I realised I was a day early. This is the trouble with working from home. I never know what day or date it is. Still, I have got an extra day out of May’s guinea pig but I can’t tell you what it is doing because that would spoil the surprise for Helen.

I have just had a bowl of Heinz tomato soup for lunch. Heinz tomato soup is a strident orange colour and has very little to do with tomatoes but I am addicted to it.

Helen is in Marwickshire today for some kind of ‘away day’. She sent a report earlier that she was drinking some foul-tasting water.

Yesterday I went to the British Newspaper Library in Colindale. Helen would like it there because pens are banned and pencils rule. Before I set off for Colindale I went to a stationery shop and spent some time choosing a smart propelling pencil. When I arrived the man at reception eyed my propelling pencil suspiciously. “That’s not a pen is it?” he said. “No, it’s a pencil,” I said. “You’ve come prepared then,” he quipped. Later on I went to order some material. The grumpy man at the desk, who’d previously got annoyed with me because I had filled in some forms wrong, was telling off another girl for having a pen. He saw my propelling pencil and said: “And you’ve got a pen too!” “This is a pencil,” I said indignantly. Later on still I went to the same desk and a woman serving saw my propelling pencil and said: “You do know pens are not allowed.” “This is a pencil,” I said. It was all very tiresome. Plus, I didn’t get on very well with my pencil because it kept snapping and then when the leads ran out I couldn’t work out how to refill it for a while. Pencils are not what they’re cracked up to be.

Do you remember the TV series Hearts of Gold hosted by Esther Rantzen? Yesterday I saw a man, possibly a tramp, who had lots of Heart of Gold badges on his coat. I worked out that either he is the kindest, most thoughtful man in the world, OR he is a serial killer who targets nice people, maybe even people featured on the show for their good deeds. He keeps the badges as trophies of each kill. I thought this would make a good plot for Lewis or Waking the Dead.

I had roasted garlic for lunch today. It really was a most delicious lunch. I can still taste it now, nearly 10 hours later.

Yesterday I had a sausage and cheese sandwich for breakfast. It was horrible. It was not my own choice, but had been bought by the kind person from Ox FM who went out to get breakfast for the all day meeting I was in. Who has sausage and cheese? It made me feel sick for some time. The sausage wasn’t even very nice. Maybe the cheese was a disguise for this.