Sitting here at an hour when sleep would be sensible I'm thinking back to the chaos of Saturday evening when all our carbon monoxide detectors started screaming and had us running round like headless chickens trying to shut them up. (They don't have "off" switches, these things) With the loudest one shoved under a cushion, we rang the emergency number. "Switch off all gas appliances, turn off the gas at the meter, open windows and doors, evacuate the property (it was zero degrees outside), don't switch any electric switches on or off .... by this time we were gibbering. Were our lips turning blue? Was creeping paralysis affecting us? (no - we were still running aimlessly from room to room)
Eventually a nice man turned up - yes, at 11.30 on a Saturday night. He made soothing noises. He isolated the offending fire. It's only a year old, but it is obviously ailing. He stuck a big label on it - danger of death or some such wording.
Perhaps Scottish Gas will come and check it tomorrow. We have a contract which promises same day attention, but it only works if you have no other source of heat, and preferably a dicky heart as well. We felt truly humbled when they put it to us that we were fine because we didn't meet these stringent conditions. They don't actually appear on the contract, but hey, it's winter, it's cold, they're busy.
We shall see.
Quite therapeutic, this blogging caper.....