Rain was dripping off the roof and down the back of Pat's neck as he manhandled the big orange gas bottle into position.
The pig "farmer" was on torch duty as his knee had inflated like a Montgolfier brothers invention after too much driving the previous week followed by a piglet-related incident. He wasn't about to risk the "I told you so" of Mrs P"F".
Next job was to take the attachment off the empty bottle and put it on the new one. "Have you got a spanner?"
Search through tool box followed, revealing any number of spanners. Guess what. Not one of them would fit. Resisting the temptation to have a rant along the lines of "why the hell does nobody, including me, put anything away?" I searched the workshop and found a monkey wrench. Couldn't get that to work either. Presumably it's great for monkeys, but not so good for gas bottles.
With the rain trickling down our backs, we skipped straight through to plan Z - ring Electric Eric and borrow spanner. The "farmer" took a few minutes to get his unbendable knee into the car and drove very carefully (it was taking several seconds to switch foot from throttle to brake, making any kind of emergency stop impossible) down to pick up the spanner.
On return, the job was done in seconds, tea was back on the stove, leaving only the question: "Why the bloody hell does the gas never run out in daylight?"