Repeating itself

The Gas Man cometh. Well not tonight - at least I hope not tonight - but this week. And tomorrow his minions will deliver all the bits necessary for the heating system I've succumbed to, after all these years of heroic resistance. Apparently you can't get the really good boilers without a few radiators, and we need a better boiler because the current one, all of five years old, keeps dying with a nasty burny smell. Apparently a circuit board overheats - a design issue.

So we've spent quite some time today wrecking bits of our house, so that The Gas Man doesn't have to. It is now, depending on where you are, echoing and bleak or crammed and untidy. But the thing that interests me most this evening is to look back to this post from the very start of my blogging career almost four years ago, and reflect that then too I was thinking about Gas Men. I can hardly believe I've been blogging for so long, and wonder to see what I talked about in those days before anyone was reading it. But I seem to have suffered from gas (as you might say, and titter slightly if you were That Kind of Person) for the whole time. Maybe bloggers are by nature simply gasbags?