Fearfully cold today as result of Mrs Payne damaging rather important nut on boiler. Thankfully managed to steer Mrs Payne away from further damage with tale of housewife attempting to adjust boiler temperature and water came right at her, killed her where she stood! Mrs Payne declared this absolute poppycock, but withdrew all the same, eyeing the boiler warily.
Gas man promised faithfully to arrive this morning with further parts to fix boiler, and as yet altogether invisible. Mrs Payne complaining bitterly about cold, has taken to wearing usual clothes, coat and dressing gown on top. Bound to say Mrs Payne as wide as is tall.
Going down for tea mid-morning found Mrs Payne in quite jolly temperament. Said she was "rather toasty" and with little red face looked rather like father Christmas. Woolly hat not enough, had taken to tea cosy on top. Further, on top of gloves was wearing oven mitts. Begged her pardon, but was anything left in kitchen? Was told had shoved two tea towels into dressing gown.
Mrs Payne's attire most useful for lunch. Capable of handling hottest of toast with not a jot of change to clothing, on account of oven gloves. This unfortunately rather unsuccessful, as proceeded to drop several slices on floor. Was awfully considerate however, asked if I wanted them.
Clothes proved further problem when attempted to sit on kitchen chair, only to scoot off front due to rather large bulge in posterior, and land soundly on floor with an "oof!". Seemed most pleased with this, said she had found another slice of toast. Added wouldn't get up, could I pass cup of tea?