Phoebe, over on her blog the other day, mentioned the kids in the house she is living with at the moment threatening one another with a "licking".

Little sister threatening big tormenting sister: "Don't make me lick you, Catherine!!!"

Today, Holly told Daisy off in the back of the car with the words:

"Stop being rude to me or I will lick you down to your toes.

Now I'm not quite sure what Catherine was being threatened with, if I remember my Tom Sawer, 'lick' in the US can mean to get the better of; defeat: licked her weight problem (thank you Answers.com), but when Holly threatens to lick you - you get licked, great, slathery, wet tongue licks. It's like being attacked by a swarm of huge warm slugs.

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The Plumbers returned today bearing expensive parts which were tried one by one - and then in all possible combinations.

Nothing worked.

So Roddy is off to Glasgow tomorrow to get us a new motor, the only working part of the boiler not yet dismantled, driven around the country for a few hours, and put back. The house smells of diesel again - apart from the kitchen which smells of diesel and polyurethane from the shelves which still haven't dried.

I'm going to bed with a tub of ice cream and may not emerge until April or May when it starts to get a bit warmer...