Glimmer of light

J the plumber came round last night. He looked at the bust shower and confirmed that it is proper bust - this was reassuring as if it had been merely temporarily laid up I would have felt a fool. He told me what to replace it with (we only have 6mm earth cable, which limits the permitted kilowattage, fact fans) and said he would come back to help me fit it. So far, so good.

But even better, I then got out my City & Guilds 6129 Scheme Plumbing Certificate folder, showed him what I've done and said 'so if I can swing it with work (big if) can I get some work experience with you?' You might need a Land Rover, he said. You what? I said. Apparently they are good for getting out in the middle of winter, when all other plumbers are frozen in, and also good for pulling up hedges when you need to dig up burst water mains.

I think I might start slow, I said. Maybe a small van? He said yes, that was fine, as long as I can get myself to Didcot of a morning. That sounds feasible. And so in one evening, my world potentially turned on its axis. Someone might give me a job as a plumber. Even if they don't pay me for it at first. For a middle class girl with more hours of gender training than plumbing experience under her toolbelt, that's quite something.

I took him out to the shed to inspect the blowtorch head I bought off Ebay but have not yet used because I don't know what kind of gas to get for it. Is this *your* shed? he said. Oh yes, I said, rootling through drawers of steel wool and solder reels, while surrounded by deckchairs, kindling made from old fences, and cocoa shell mulch. I think you're my perfect woman, he said.

It feels like there might be everything to play for all of a sudden. As Mike Harding once said, it's hard being a cowboy in Rochdale - but if that's what you are, maybe you should just get those spurs on your clogs.

joella