My previous visits to Mr D have been entertaining and delightful and today's was no different. I was greeted at the door, and before I had got comfy on the sofa was offered a cup of tea. Before I had a chance to reply he said he'd also got in some custard tarts again especially, but that I could only have one if I could sort out his boiler. Now I'm no plumber - so the expectation that I could do anything to sort out Mr D's. boiler took me rather by surprise and I assumed I wouldn't be getting a custard tart: especially as Mr D was himself a Corgi registered plumber in days gone by. So, no pressure!!! I needn't have worried though. It's a modern boiler with a display which tells you exactly what the fault is and how to fix it. Mr D was struggling to read the display, so it was an easy fix for me to read and follow the instructions- with a simultaneous touch of two buttons the boiler was reset and we soon had the central heating working again. What a sense of achievement for me... and at last Mr D's kettle was boiling away. Mr D makes a great cuppa, and tucking into my custard tart reward, we were soon gassing away about families, friends, knee replacements (my hubby's) and missing toes (My D demonstrated that the last knuckles of his big toes were removed when he was 18 in the 1940s because of ingrowing toenails - thank goodness they aren't quite as brutal nowadays!). Time flew by, and before I knew it it was time for me to get back to work - I could have stayed there all afternoon if my boss hadn't phoned me up...