ljmsolutions.co.uk

LJM and the Zombie Apocolypse!

Once upon a time, in the gentle days of early September, we decided to bite the solar bullet. We turned to our energy company, and a few third parties, to discover a bewildering world of confusion. Still, we persevered. We danced through the digital hoops, clicked the right boxes, and lo! A real surveyor eventually appeared, to inspect our humble abode. And here, dear readers, is where our tale begins to twist. Our house, you see, is no ordinary dwelling. It’s an ugly awkward beast, full of quirks and corners, chimneys and challenges. Nothing quite fits. Routing cables was a puzzle, placing solar panels amounted to architectural Tetris. The energy company, deemed our home too troublesome and passed us on to their “trusted partners.” Enter LJM.With another round of online form-filling and digital poking, we took the plunge and requested a quote from LJM. We braced ourselves for the usual: poor communication, pushy sales tactics, and a general sense of dread. But instead, we were greeted by Madie. Madie was a breath of fresh air, professional, prompt, and wonderfully human. She walked us through the process, ticked every box, and even tolerated our smelly hound with a smile. A quick Google search confirmed our instincts: the reviews were glowing. We were sold. We bought the metaphorical T-shirt and booked our installation.Ah, installation day, that most sacred of days, a Friday, no less! A POETS Day, for those in the know. But alas, fate had other plans. The morning dawned bright. Scaffolding had been erected without fuss. The crew arrived at nine sharp, and the battle began. They worked tirelessly, fuelled only by tea, snacks, and the occasional loo break. Cables were routed, wossits were jiggled, and by 8PM, the job was done, despite that lack of POETS day, the team worked tirelessly, and the herculean task was complete, or so we thought.And here, dear reader, is where things went awry.Yes, some roof tiles were damaged (replaced in due course). But most tragically of all… we were missing our Zombie Apocalypse Switch. The mighty ZAS!In our eagerness to be sold to — and with a complete disregard of understanding what we’d bought, we overlooked the absence of the ZAS. For those unfamiliar, the ZAS is the magical device that allows your battery to power your home during a blackout, safely disconnected from the grid. Essential, especially for those of us living in the countryside. And so, we thought would begin the battle against the Beast of Contracts and the Dreaded God of Terms and Conditions. We penned our missive, with trepidation, proud of our shiny new panels, battery, and charger, but mournful for our missing ZAS. If this were a tale by the Brothers Grimm, the ending would be bitter, full of legal wrangling and corporate indifference. But fear not, dear reader. For this is a fairy tale, and fairy tales must end well.Remember that Friday? The not-so-POETS Day? We went to bed disheartened, when celebration should have reigned. But on Sunday (not Monday), an email arrived from LJM. With a deep sigh and a feeling of dread, we opened it, bracing for denial.Instead, we found an apology. A real one. And a promise: someone would contact us on Monday with… A PLAN (dun dun duuuurrrnnn).We were stunned. Had we slipped into a parallel universe? One where companies still believed in ethics and whisper it, customer service? We anxiously waited. Monday came. And with it, a promise fulfilled. Not only would we get our ZAS, but they would fit it with haste, acknowledging the mistake and eager to make it right. I searched for the catch. There was none. We accepted their offer, still slightly dazed. But ah, gentle reader, you knew the tale wasn’t over… The engineer arrived, ready to fit the ZAS. But alas! Our house, awkward as ever, left the engineer, like a teenage boy in a bra factory, not knowing where to look, to find a place that would suffice to fit the ZAS. The God of Regulations, stern and unyielding, declared that the box could not be placed outside the sacred distance of the main electrical thingummy-bobs.And so, the cabinet, the only decent bit of DIY ever done in our home, had to be sacrificed on the altar of Regulations. Its loss was mourned. But with its removal, the engineer returned yet again and triumphantly installed the ZAS. At last, we were protected from power cuts… and zombies.And so ends our tale, not of woe, but of wonder. A story of excellent customer service, strong ethics, and every single person we dealt with being polite, professional, and human. It’s easy to do a bad review. Harder to write a good one. We hope the effort we put into this one reflects the efforts LJM put into their installation and service and shows just how highly we think of them. Thank you all.

Date of experience: Sep 05, 2025