Drink it in, as I do, with your eyes, enjoying every luxurious moment, this enormous grey metal panel on the wall with all the fuses and the big switch that goes THWANG. It is a delight, is it not, when everything electrical turns off across eight rooms and you can add the heating into that moment of joy.
I stare at it all a very long while, tempting buttons when I am not blaspheming and setting about the entire thing with a broom handle.
After lengthy consideration, I pronounce the fault is at 'the ring main'. This I can do with some authority because it is helpfully written above the fuse that keeps tripping. Anyway, for some light relief, I also stare at this.
I will try my hand at most things without a handy bloke, but there is no good, no good at all to come with me having a bash at electrical jiggerypokery. Until very recently I assumed electricity was tipped into the walls where it stays until you trap it with plugs. And make sure the little switches are turned off at night because the power can leak out of holes. Or not, in our house.