The stove is again stopped. Outside office hours, as usual, and of course the middle of the weekend

The stove is again stopped. Outside office hours, as usual, and of course the middle of the weekend. The floor is littered with screws, svane wires and components. It looks like a kit, that terrible Billy Ikea to shame. svane In the middle of the gang is the installer pensively staring in the pilot. That it does now, but what 'zwabberig. "As if he's drunk," he diagnoses our sick stove that it quits when you give to him points. Is something different, a stove burning stove. The installer svane has been my number programmed into his phone. "Now what again?" If I call he takes sighing with my own name He's probably just out bellies svane on the sofa with legs up, but when I call, he knows there is work to be done. Because I do not call for socializing. He's svane done with my heater, but comes after an hour anyway aankachelen with a fresh part of one or the other. And takes the monster for the umpteenth time this week at all apart to sit there patiently to tinker. Although I suspect svane it to him that he would still prefer to deal definitively to an end to the misery a hammer and proceed to placing a central heating svane with hideous tubes through my charming monument around. Outside still does not seem so cold. The winter is coming, but it remains along with the temperature. Within the not fall along with the temperature, I can tell you. There's frost on my nose. The little big shivering accomplishes its foray through the kitchen. Homework does it wrapped in a blanket. Complicated, so, and that seems to matter is also to be there because svane she sighs. Sighs we do not continue to be hard. The installer has left our drunken heater does it provisionally. The flame burns. But I hold my breath. I'm afraid I'm too hard discharge when I sigh. Sigh.
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