Verdi protests

I set about doing the tidy/cleaning thing with "La Traviata" on toppish volume. In amongst the clutter I find an unopened letter from EDF. I open it to find that someone is going to come round to do an essential maintenance check on my electricity meter to make sure it's safe.

Someone is coming round, er, last September. Whoops. I tear it up into shreds to put in my recycling bag whilst simultaneously wondering why I am doing this as usually I keep all documents from electricity/gas/water/tv providers.

Oh well, I take my housework to the corridor, swept up by this tale of doomed love, which I brush into my dustpan.

All of a sudden, the music stops, mid aria. In its place the electricity meter starts to fizz. I switch on the light. It's not a power cut. The meter continues to fizz quite manically, enough for me in a moment of terror, to rush outside should the flat blow up. It doesn't so I step back inside.

Damn me. Damn me! I dig into my black 'recycling' bag and take out lots of little pieces of paper and sat cross legged on a slither of kitchen floor, try and piece enough of it back together again to call EDF. They're coming in the morning.

The meter has calmed down when I finish all that so I start the cd player again, from the beginning, and move into the bedroom.

Alfredo declares his love, Violetta answers that friendship is all she can offer, love is so painful she avoids it, pleasure is all she asks of life! Stigmum feels it so acutely, she picks up stray clothes and throws them with passion into the "dirty pile".

The music stops again! The meter fizzing uncontrollably! We abandon our task, it's nearly time for the school run anyway. The meter relaxes and I've not heard a peep out of it since. The CD player's working fine too, churned out some Brit Pop songs while the boys played.

I can only assume, having considered these turn of events these past few hours, that Verdi didn't like housework and wanted no part in my own. Alas. Can't blame him though, treacherous job so it is...