Where's Lorenzo when you need him?

Knowing we would be off the island for a while, I took the opportunity to leave the generator with the people from whom we bought it, as it had been playing up. I gave them a list of faults and called them before we got back, to check that all was well. They said it was fine, that it had needed this and that and whatever, and that it was running sweetly again; so we picked it up this morning and took it over to the island. That sounds straightforward enough, but the generator is heavy, the boat is small and Lynn and I are not as young as we used to be: it took us half an hour just to maneuver it up the jetty and round the back of the cabin, during which process Lynn very gently suggested that next time, I might like to enlist the help of ... someone else.

Anyway, we got it positioned and connected up, and after checking that it was at least starting ok, I left Lynn to it as I had to be on the mainland for the rest of the day. Come darkness, Lynn gave it a proper field test, and it failed miserably - the cabin lights were no brighter than candles, the engine note rose and fell and the generator became so hot Lynn could smell it from the far end of the cabin, and had to turn it off. When she told me about it, I must admit I was furious. It's rare that we get the opportunity to leave the generator in to the workshop for repair at a time when we're off the island anyway; and for the workshop to use that opportunity to make things worse is beyond depressing. They know we rely on it - for heaven's sake, there was Lynn was sitting alone in near-darkness on an island with boat-only access. Do I sound upset?! That's because I feel helpless. To cap it all, tomorrow's Sunday. Aargh!!

Wish we were back in Edinburgh, watching Lorenzo the Spanish puppet playing hide and seek with a little girl in the Grassmarket, while the world walked happily by in the sunshine..

Lorenzo: http://www.naranjarte.com/