..that you don't know what you’ve got til it’s gone, warbled Joni Mitchell, and how right she was.
Thanks to the Heath Robinson-style eccentricities of Victorian plumbing, the builders next door managed to cut our water off the other night merely by turning a tap.
Man, it was tough. After two hours I could understand how Jean de Florette felt.
What a thin veneer of convenience separates civilisation from barbarism! You can’t even flush the loo.