The task description was to move a triple wardrobe across the bedroom for Mr A to give him better access to his desk. Mr A's wife greeted David and I at the front gate when we arrived and said that she didn't think it was possible to do what was being asked...but if experience from these sorts of tasks has taught us anything, it's at least to give it a try...

Because what Mr A really wanted was for us to move a double wardrobe from its existing location, move a second triple wardrobe into the space vacated by the double wardrobe, and then move a second triple wardrobe into the new space vacated by the first triple wardrobe, with the double wardrobe then being moved into the old space that the second triple wardrobe had previously been occupying...all the while Mr A was in his hospital bed, precariously close to the action, and his room was chock full of other furniture.

We soon discovered that the double wardrobe was on a plinth, so pushing it at a comfortable shoulder height was only going to end in disaster, and we were pushing it on carpet. After getting low and "giving it some" we somehow we got this one moved out.

The next triple we simply couldn't budge unless we emptied the clothes from it - so we used Mr A's various chairs and other furniture as clothes horses, and then again adopting the bobsleigh push start position, slowly wriggled this one along the carpet - success...

Wardrobe three also needed its contents removed, so we had to first replace wardrobe two's contents, to free up the space on the clothes horses, and also empty a bathroom's worth of toiletries that were on the shelves to give ourselves any chance. Once done, we shoved that one across the carpet - magically it fitted into the space, and the bedroom door would still open.

It was then a question of somehow not tipping the double wardrobe onto Mr A in his bed, and walking this one across the carpet into the new space by the entrance door...and putting all the clothes and other items back into wardrobe three.

Neither Mr A nor Mrs A could quite believe that we'd been able to do what had been asked - to be honest I'm not sure David and I believed it either...as they say in the film "I'm feeling very Olympic today..."

The sardines in olive oil drought continues into another week - surely the Strait of Hormuz can't be responsible for this. However everything else could be safely caught in the net, and Mr T was delighted that I was back in double quick time so that we could have a good natter about the ins and outs of his recent blood extraction (four vials worth!), which, if I'm honest, sounded so very like the Tony Hancock TV episode...

David and I arrived at Mr H's ready to try and effect a repair on his bed frame. When he showed us into the bedroom, it was apparent that a few of the castors had come off the divan base, so we removed the mattress and turned the two sections of the base over to try and get the wheels to re-attach.

Whilst one fixed back in ok, the second more problematic wheel just wouldn't stay fixed in the wooden frame, and it was clear that the frame was cracked and so there was insufficient friction or wood to hold the wheel in place. Mr H shared his frustrations with us that he has been sleeping on his sofa for years due to the fact that no-one has been able to either fix the bed, or provide him with a replacement.

What we ended up doing, after a bit of hoovering to get rid of the accumulated dust, was to place a block of wood (that had probably been used before as a support) in the corner to support the troublesome corner, and then placed the mattress back on top of the divan base.

Mr H really wasn't happy with this solution as he said the block would move if he moved the bed, and he wasn't wrong in that respect, but there was enough weight bearing down on the bed once the mattress (and a person) were on top of it, that we felt it was our only practical solution.

A slightly frustrating mission it has to be said, and it was clear that what Mr H really needs is a new divan base to replace the current broken one. Hopefully this can be resolved by the referrer or another charity, such that Mr H can get back to sleeping in a bed, rather than on a sofa.

The big news from this week's visit to Mrs S was she has some fancy new wheels which she invited me to inspect down on the ground floor - it's fair to say it's quite some machine, or to give it its proper name, it's a "rollator", with bigger wheels to helpfully (hopefully?) absorb the bumps. I look forward to listening to Mrs S's Jeremy Clarkson style review across the kitchen table after a couple of weeks of test driving it around the narrow lanes of Central London...