Week Five
Interesting start to the week! I leave for work at 8 as usual, drive 2 minutes up the road and then notice in my rear view mirror that I have forgotten to put any makeup on. This concerns me because (1) it is worrying that I am peering at my face in the rear view mirror instead of looking where I’m going and (2) it is also worrying that I appear incapable of getting up properly. Make mental note to check outfit in mirror before leaving house in future in case I forget to get out of my pyjamas. Weigh up the pros and cons of continuing to work (‘it’s the natural look’ versus ‘are you sure you’re OK – you look terrible’) turn round and go back home again.
Meet the builders who are unexpectedly just arriving and leaving but they say Mike the Base wants to speak to me about the trenches. I ring Mike the Base. He says the electricity trench is in the way of his base and needs to be filled in, and the drainage trench is too short and needs to be dug out. He completely fails to understand where the electric cable is going to go, says he can be with me in 5 minutes, and I wait. He arrives, we decide on filling/digging trenches, and agree that several tree branches will have to be felled owing to the pit now being a foot nearer the lane (and trees) than had been intended. I say that I know a bloke who can do it (good excuse to get gorgeous Aussie surfer tree surgeon back) and Mike the Base says his boys can do it. I am delighted to save a bob or two, and agree that in the evening I will mark up the branches to be removed with paint.
I text Guy who says he will come down after work. We will make a template for the shed wall (7 foot high, roof at 30° pitch) and move it along the base edge to see which branches need to go. I arrive home from work to find electric trench filled in, drainage trench dug out… and branches already felled. For some reason I find this unbelievably funny and stand laughing hysterically in the middle of all the mess staring at the branch stumps. Guy arrives. I think he may be worried about my sanity, but he hides it well. So we don’t have to do measuring, but we do extensive clearing away of branches instead.
Meet the builders who are unexpectedly just arriving and leaving but they say Mike the Base wants to speak to me about the trenches. I ring Mike the Base. He says the electricity trench is in the way of his base and needs to be filled in, and the drainage trench is too short and needs to be dug out. He completely fails to understand where the electric cable is going to go, says he can be with me in 5 minutes, and I wait. He arrives, we decide on filling/digging trenches, and agree that several tree branches will have to be felled owing to the pit now being a foot nearer the lane (and trees) than had been intended. I say that I know a bloke who can do it (good excuse to get gorgeous Aussie surfer tree surgeon back) and Mike the Base says his boys can do it. I am delighted to save a bob or two, and agree that in the evening I will mark up the branches to be removed with paint.
I text Guy who says he will come down after work. We will make a template for the shed wall (7 foot high, roof at 30° pitch) and move it along the base edge to see which branches need to go. I arrive home from work to find electric trench filled in, drainage trench dug out… and branches already felled. For some reason I find this unbelievably funny and stand laughing hysterically in the middle of all the mess staring at the branch stumps. Guy arrives. I think he may be worried about my sanity, but he hides it well. So we don’t have to do measuring, but we do extensive clearing away of branches instead.
Then the shuttering starts to get put up. I come home from work on Tuesday to find two pieces of shuttering in place. But only one is in the RIGHT place. I phone the builders the next morning to get them to move it. They do. It’s still wrong. I creep outside at 6.30am in my pyjamas with a lump hammer and move it myself. Much easier.
Now to the tarpaulins I bought last week. I did say I don’t do things by halves…. I have a revolting concrete garage half way down my garden. It’s also beyond a flight of steps, so it is completely useless as a garage (unless you fancy recreating the Mini chase from The Italian Job). The pool shed is going to be beautiful – and wooden. So, in a rash moment of forward planning and co-ordination, I decided to replace the concrete heap with a wooden shed, from the same shed people. Well, I got a good deal on TWO sheds… Weeks ago I advertised the revolting concrete garage on Ebay – and somebody BID for it! He’s paying £2.70 (clearly barking) and he’s coming all the way from Sutton Coldfield to dismantle and collect it on Saturday. Or at least that’s the theory – he hasn’t been in touch for 3 weeks now… All the contents of the garage need to be put elsewhere, so that’s one tarpaulin on the ground, stuff on top of it, and the other one over the top. Tied down tight, and hope for dry calm weather so that it doesn’t all take off!
On Friday I leave the house at 8 expecting the builders to come to lay the slab. It begins to rain and there is a lorry blocking the lane. The driver wants to drop off sand and stuff, but my car is in the way. I say I’ll drive the car down the lane and park in the village then come back to discuss plans with builders. I set off. I meet the refuse truck, the post van, Dave and Lynn’s son, Trudy’s daughter and finally Fish the builder’s mate, all in their cars. Everybody agrees to ‘back up’ except Fish who refuses to believe it is necessary. I am beyond explaining and simply point at the line of cars. He backs up. Builders say they are going to finish shuttering, finalise levels and do slab ‘middle of next week. Probably.’ I am not inspired. They have lost the key to the house, so I let them in with strict instructions to phone me when they leave so mum can nip down and lock up. It’s 8.20 and I feel like I’ve done a day’s work already.
I arrive home after work to find the builders have made tea, eaten biscuits, dumped sand all over my gravel, failed to lock up the house and done precious little else. I Am Not A Happy Bunny. Resolve to be patient just a little longer. BLOODY DIFFICULT. Good news is I have heard from Garage Man. He is leaving Birmingham at 5.30am on Saturday so should be with me around 7.30. He is bringing Dave who has an angle grinder and Sounds Strong. Already I like Dave. I am planning to be girly and let them do all the work. Guy will arrive at coffee time pretending to have a bad back, although I think his plan to stoop, clutch his hand to his spine and shriek ‘ooh me back’ might be over egging it slightly. Saturday – Garage Man and Dave arrive just after 8. They are tall, strong and friendly. My kind of people. They left home at 5.30am so I provide bacon butties and then point them at the garage. I am wearing a pink T shirt to look girly and they say they don’t need my help. Hooray! They work non-stop, tidy up and take everything away (including the asbestos roof) by noon. I wonder what else I can sell them. We all promise to keep in touch and swap shed stories – they are fascinated by the idea of the pool and I think they may be back to admire it when it is finished. Garage Man had bid £2.70 for the garage but I suggest ‘£2 for cash’ which tickles him hugely and he pays up happily.
Guy and I decide the old garage base is excellent and will do nicely for new shed. Sadly nothing here is that simple and the site needs to be rotated about 90° to avoid two trees which will be in the way of the new roof angle. We start dismantling then decide we have had enough, and stop again. Damned Fine Idea –it’s been a long day!
I blow the garage proceeds by spending £1 on a lottery ticket (it’s a triple rollover – if I win I will go and sit on a beach in the Bahamas until the pool is finished) and the other £1 on a bag of prawn crackers as a treat. I eat the lot sitting out admiring my lack of garage with a glass of wine. Yes of course I would have given some to Guy but he has a gig and has already left…. And no, they wouldn’t have kept.
On Sunday (having failed yet again to win the Lottery) Guy and I prepare the base for the small shed. Mike the Base had offered to do this but, given his complete lack of progress on the pool slab, I am not convinced and decide it is less stressful to do it ourselves. We lift the hardboard floor of the old base and find – more rubble! We plan the new position for the shed and mark it out, only to discover that the stuff on the tarpaulins is in the way. Bummer. We undo the whole thing and move a shelf unit into the garden, hoping it doesn’t rain…. We spend the rest of the day (it takes hours) creating a level edge and filling it with the existing rubble plus my pile of rubble (see, I knew it would come in useful…) We are absolutely shattered and exceedingly dirty by the time we finish.
On one of my trips to the rubble heap I notice that my stacked supply of local reclaimed bricks is seriously diminished. These are not only (a) gorgeous but also (b) needed for the edge of the grass where the electricity cable is going to go. I spend quite a while wondering where I put them and then realise the builders must have used them as backfill and I am more livid than you can possibly realise – not least because THEY WALKED PAST THE RUBBLE TO GET TO THE BRICKS! And they didn’t either ask me or tell me. I am furious. Guy spots where the bricks have been used, and I decide to dig them all out. Guy goes home (sensible chap) and I start digging. Anger makes for very good adrenaline (think Incredible Hulk but a bit less green) and I manage to rescue 73 precious bricks, fill the hole with real rubble and add some of the sand/cement/gravel mix that the builders have dumped all over the drive.
On Bank Holiday Monday we decide not to do Bank Holiday Type Things (picnics, shopping, visiting friends, barbecues) on the basis that they are all Too Clean, and yet again get disgustingly filthy finishing the small shed base. We are adding dry sand/cement mix and it takes 3 trips to the DIY store to get enough. On the last visit the cashier says she thinks it must be Groundhog Day… However, the good news is that I have clearly started a trend, and the DIY store is no longer full of Clean People in Frocks, but rather dirty people collecting sand and cement. Excellent! I am obviously a Trend Setter. We finish the base before the rain starts and we are VERY proud of ourselves. All done, and without having to berate builders. To celebrate we give ourselves an easy afternoon and, in the rain, fell a slightly rotten tree which is in the way of the pool shed.
Total hours worked: I’m trying not to think about it. 3 days solid? However many hours it was, my muscles are telling me it was Too Many.
Achieved: Two bits of shuttering, final floor in pit, builders still alive, garage gone, small shed base at proper angle.
Pressies and Purchases: Zilch! Well, unless you count the new 5 gallon flagon of sloe gin.
Wine Consumed: 1 bottle (and that was Guy). Let’s not mention the sloe gin.
Casualties: 1 rotten tree felled, numerous bruises and scratches, back door key misplaced by builders.
Forecast: Woe betide Mike the Base if the pool shed base is not finished this week…. That’s all I’m saying!
Now to the tarpaulins I bought last week. I did say I don’t do things by halves…. I have a revolting concrete garage half way down my garden. It’s also beyond a flight of steps, so it is completely useless as a garage (unless you fancy recreating the Mini chase from The Italian Job). The pool shed is going to be beautiful – and wooden. So, in a rash moment of forward planning and co-ordination, I decided to replace the concrete heap with a wooden shed, from the same shed people. Well, I got a good deal on TWO sheds… Weeks ago I advertised the revolting concrete garage on Ebay – and somebody BID for it! He’s paying £2.70 (clearly barking) and he’s coming all the way from Sutton Coldfield to dismantle and collect it on Saturday. Or at least that’s the theory – he hasn’t been in touch for 3 weeks now… All the contents of the garage need to be put elsewhere, so that’s one tarpaulin on the ground, stuff on top of it, and the other one over the top. Tied down tight, and hope for dry calm weather so that it doesn’t all take off!
On Friday I leave the house at 8 expecting the builders to come to lay the slab. It begins to rain and there is a lorry blocking the lane. The driver wants to drop off sand and stuff, but my car is in the way. I say I’ll drive the car down the lane and park in the village then come back to discuss plans with builders. I set off. I meet the refuse truck, the post van, Dave and Lynn’s son, Trudy’s daughter and finally Fish the builder’s mate, all in their cars. Everybody agrees to ‘back up’ except Fish who refuses to believe it is necessary. I am beyond explaining and simply point at the line of cars. He backs up. Builders say they are going to finish shuttering, finalise levels and do slab ‘middle of next week. Probably.’ I am not inspired. They have lost the key to the house, so I let them in with strict instructions to phone me when they leave so mum can nip down and lock up. It’s 8.20 and I feel like I’ve done a day’s work already.
I arrive home after work to find the builders have made tea, eaten biscuits, dumped sand all over my gravel, failed to lock up the house and done precious little else. I Am Not A Happy Bunny. Resolve to be patient just a little longer. BLOODY DIFFICULT. Good news is I have heard from Garage Man. He is leaving Birmingham at 5.30am on Saturday so should be with me around 7.30. He is bringing Dave who has an angle grinder and Sounds Strong. Already I like Dave. I am planning to be girly and let them do all the work. Guy will arrive at coffee time pretending to have a bad back, although I think his plan to stoop, clutch his hand to his spine and shriek ‘ooh me back’ might be over egging it slightly. Saturday – Garage Man and Dave arrive just after 8. They are tall, strong and friendly. My kind of people. They left home at 5.30am so I provide bacon butties and then point them at the garage. I am wearing a pink T shirt to look girly and they say they don’t need my help. Hooray! They work non-stop, tidy up and take everything away (including the asbestos roof) by noon. I wonder what else I can sell them. We all promise to keep in touch and swap shed stories – they are fascinated by the idea of the pool and I think they may be back to admire it when it is finished. Garage Man had bid £2.70 for the garage but I suggest ‘£2 for cash’ which tickles him hugely and he pays up happily.
Guy and I decide the old garage base is excellent and will do nicely for new shed. Sadly nothing here is that simple and the site needs to be rotated about 90° to avoid two trees which will be in the way of the new roof angle. We start dismantling then decide we have had enough, and stop again. Damned Fine Idea –it’s been a long day!
I blow the garage proceeds by spending £1 on a lottery ticket (it’s a triple rollover – if I win I will go and sit on a beach in the Bahamas until the pool is finished) and the other £1 on a bag of prawn crackers as a treat. I eat the lot sitting out admiring my lack of garage with a glass of wine. Yes of course I would have given some to Guy but he has a gig and has already left…. And no, they wouldn’t have kept.
On Sunday (having failed yet again to win the Lottery) Guy and I prepare the base for the small shed. Mike the Base had offered to do this but, given his complete lack of progress on the pool slab, I am not convinced and decide it is less stressful to do it ourselves. We lift the hardboard floor of the old base and find – more rubble! We plan the new position for the shed and mark it out, only to discover that the stuff on the tarpaulins is in the way. Bummer. We undo the whole thing and move a shelf unit into the garden, hoping it doesn’t rain…. We spend the rest of the day (it takes hours) creating a level edge and filling it with the existing rubble plus my pile of rubble (see, I knew it would come in useful…) We are absolutely shattered and exceedingly dirty by the time we finish.
On one of my trips to the rubble heap I notice that my stacked supply of local reclaimed bricks is seriously diminished. These are not only (a) gorgeous but also (b) needed for the edge of the grass where the electricity cable is going to go. I spend quite a while wondering where I put them and then realise the builders must have used them as backfill and I am more livid than you can possibly realise – not least because THEY WALKED PAST THE RUBBLE TO GET TO THE BRICKS! And they didn’t either ask me or tell me. I am furious. Guy spots where the bricks have been used, and I decide to dig them all out. Guy goes home (sensible chap) and I start digging. Anger makes for very good adrenaline (think Incredible Hulk but a bit less green) and I manage to rescue 73 precious bricks, fill the hole with real rubble and add some of the sand/cement/gravel mix that the builders have dumped all over the drive.
On Bank Holiday Monday we decide not to do Bank Holiday Type Things (picnics, shopping, visiting friends, barbecues) on the basis that they are all Too Clean, and yet again get disgustingly filthy finishing the small shed base. We are adding dry sand/cement mix and it takes 3 trips to the DIY store to get enough. On the last visit the cashier says she thinks it must be Groundhog Day… However, the good news is that I have clearly started a trend, and the DIY store is no longer full of Clean People in Frocks, but rather dirty people collecting sand and cement. Excellent! I am obviously a Trend Setter. We finish the base before the rain starts and we are VERY proud of ourselves. All done, and without having to berate builders. To celebrate we give ourselves an easy afternoon and, in the rain, fell a slightly rotten tree which is in the way of the pool shed.
Total hours worked: I’m trying not to think about it. 3 days solid? However many hours it was, my muscles are telling me it was Too Many.
Achieved: Two bits of shuttering, final floor in pit, builders still alive, garage gone, small shed base at proper angle.
Pressies and Purchases: Zilch! Well, unless you count the new 5 gallon flagon of sloe gin.
Wine Consumed: 1 bottle (and that was Guy). Let’s not mention the sloe gin.
Casualties: 1 rotten tree felled, numerous bruises and scratches, back door key misplaced by builders.
Forecast: Woe betide Mike the Base if the pool shed base is not finished this week…. That’s all I’m saying!
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