Week Four
This promises to be a very dull week. Mike the Base won’t be back until Friday, and until then, nothing happens…
Tuesday, 11.45am. Mike the base phones me at work. ‘the boys are going to go and do the wall at 1 o’clock. Is the house open?’ Of course it is - I’m in the habit of going to work and leaving the entire house unlocked…. I hurtle home at 12.30 (thanking God for flexi time and sympathetic work colleagues)… The boys are already there when I arrive. I point out that the pit wall needs to be lined up – all the other dimensions come off this wall, and it is absolutely critical that it is in the right place. They’ve just been told to ‘build a wall’. Still, it’s ok, Darren the Digger allowed 18” either side of the pit, and a foot at each end. The boys place two blocks and start measuring. The pit is too small. TOO BLOODY SMALL!!! 42 tons of rubble and crap and it’s TOO SMALL!! I absolutely cannot believe it, and insist they use the other side of the measuring tape. STILL TOO SMALL!
Unbelievable. I have absolutely no idea how this happened – it was marked out, it was dug out bigger than the markers, last week it was TOO BIG! AAAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhhh. I am, at this time, dressed in a very nice skirt, summery sleeveless top, and wellies. I am standing on concrete slurry in a pit discussing why it is TOO BLOODY SMALL. The boys get to work with pickaxes in the corners, and eventually we agree on a line and the dimensions – and it fits. Just. I have to get back to work, so I whizz off and leave them to it. I text Guy and tell him it’s a disaster – he offers to come down and commiserate in the evening.
I’m worried about going home from work – what devastation will I find this time? When I get home there’s one side of a pit wall, two corners, neatness and tidiness, and it all looks fine. So there was never any need to get stressed, then…. AAAAAaaaarrrrrrgghhhhh. Guy comes down and it’s true, the acrylic goblets really do hold half a bottle each. Trust me – my nerves needed it!
Wednesday – more work is done to the pit wall, Guy and I move all the remaining slabs again. Well, not so much move as HIDE from builders all too ready to chuck them under piles of concrete… Heavy work – soon I’m going to have muscles in places I didn’t even know I had places. And muddy because all the slabs are dusty and dirty…. Then the hosepipe explodes, I get soaked and all the dusty mud turns to little rivers of slime. Guy leaves, refusing to give me a hug on the basis that I am ‘cold and clammy’. Still sopping wet and muddy I then discover that, in order to plug in their concrete mixer, Mike the Base has unplugged my freezer and the ENTIRE contents have defrosted. At this precise point my neighbour turns up (In A Clean Frock With Make Up And Smelling Nice) for a look at the work and enquires sweetly how it is all going….. I grit my teeth and say it’s Just Fine Thank You. She admires hole in ground, says it’s smaller than she expected (you and me both, love) and goes home happy and laden with two defrosted pizzas and most of my ice cream… I eat defrosted halibut. And lots of it. Make inroads into Sloe Gin….
On Friday I have halibut for breakfast again (make mental note to buy less halibut) and the pit wall is finished. And damp-proofed. And looks fine. Slightly too much to the left but – hey, it’s the right size, it’s done, It’ll Be Fine. If I say it often enough I’ll believe it…..
Saturday we plan to visit the salvage yard and I also have the truly brilliant idea of removing revolting rubble wall and rebuilding with decent stone wall. Well, what else would we have done with the day? I whizz (incredibly early – who needs sleep?) to the DIY store to buy ready mixed concrete and get 5 bags in the Smart. Guy arrives, we hurtle off (to avoid FA Cup traffic) to the salvage yard to look at slabs, floorboards and Other Things That You Find In Salvage Yards. Quite my favourite place – other girls do clothes shopping and boutiques. Me? Salvage yards – bliss! We find lots of suitable slabs and a truly stonking piece of oak for the end of the stud wall. About 300 years old, pitted, mis-shaped and utterly gorgeous. This will mean the stud wall is harder to make and the oak is, of course, outrageously heavy and will need 4 strong people to manoeuvre into place. Will this stop me? Of course not – I never was one to do things the easy way….
We return to the wall and get demolishing. And guess what? I now have a pile of rubble again! Hooray! I was missing it…. Mike the Base has left his concrete mixer, so we lob bags of readymix into it and start it going. Excellent machine! We mix and build and mix and build … and run out of concrete.
I whizz off (again) to the DIY store and am, by miles, the dirtiest person in there. The sun is shining, the birds are twittering, and it is ENTIRELY filled by Clean People in Nice Frocks. I have wellies, filthy jeans and cement in my hair. The two Clean People in Nice Frocks in front of me have a trolley containing…. a single pack of seeds. I have another five bags of readymix….
The wall is finished. We are knackered. The dog is knackered. We clean out the mixer, buckets, spade, trowel, me, Guy and then sit and have a Sloe Gin in the evening sunshine. Then we have another one…. The wall is a vast improvement, although I tell Guy I can already see one stone I’d like to reposition….
Guy says he thinks not.
On Sunday we have a nice lazy day off from Pool Stuff. Move two log piles, replant tubs on patio, sow seeds, do housework, laundry, ironing, visit DIY store to point at Clean People and buy tarpaulins (in readiness for Week 5…), sit in sunshine. See – lazy day.
Total hours worked: 1 standing in wellies on slurry worrying about pit wall, 11 hours hard labour on Saturday. Muscle tone improving nicely. Or at least it will be when I stop aching all over.
Achieved: A Pit Wall! And almost in the right place! Better retaining wall, and a new heap of rubble.
Purchases: Two stunning palms for the pool room (yes, yes, way too early, but they were a bargain.) And of course I have my name on that stunning piece of ancient oak.
Wine consumed: 1 bottle on Tuesday. It was a Bad Day. And then there was the sloe gin after the wall building. Purely medicinal.
Sarah’s tips on wall building: (1) don’t do the pointing with your fingers – it ruins your nails; (2) don’t stick your head in the concrete mixer to see if it’s clean and then bang the outside with your hand – the concrete will fall in your hair; (3) make sure you like the stones you use – or you’ll have to dismantle it to get at that one you don’t like at the bottom and somebody else will tell you you Can’t Do It.
Tuesday, 11.45am. Mike the base phones me at work. ‘the boys are going to go and do the wall at 1 o’clock. Is the house open?’ Of course it is - I’m in the habit of going to work and leaving the entire house unlocked…. I hurtle home at 12.30 (thanking God for flexi time and sympathetic work colleagues)… The boys are already there when I arrive. I point out that the pit wall needs to be lined up – all the other dimensions come off this wall, and it is absolutely critical that it is in the right place. They’ve just been told to ‘build a wall’. Still, it’s ok, Darren the Digger allowed 18” either side of the pit, and a foot at each end. The boys place two blocks and start measuring. The pit is too small. TOO BLOODY SMALL!!! 42 tons of rubble and crap and it’s TOO SMALL!! I absolutely cannot believe it, and insist they use the other side of the measuring tape. STILL TOO SMALL!
Unbelievable. I have absolutely no idea how this happened – it was marked out, it was dug out bigger than the markers, last week it was TOO BIG! AAAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhhh. I am, at this time, dressed in a very nice skirt, summery sleeveless top, and wellies. I am standing on concrete slurry in a pit discussing why it is TOO BLOODY SMALL. The boys get to work with pickaxes in the corners, and eventually we agree on a line and the dimensions – and it fits. Just. I have to get back to work, so I whizz off and leave them to it. I text Guy and tell him it’s a disaster – he offers to come down and commiserate in the evening.
I’m worried about going home from work – what devastation will I find this time? When I get home there’s one side of a pit wall, two corners, neatness and tidiness, and it all looks fine. So there was never any need to get stressed, then…. AAAAAaaaarrrrrrgghhhhh. Guy comes down and it’s true, the acrylic goblets really do hold half a bottle each. Trust me – my nerves needed it!
Wednesday – more work is done to the pit wall, Guy and I move all the remaining slabs again. Well, not so much move as HIDE from builders all too ready to chuck them under piles of concrete… Heavy work – soon I’m going to have muscles in places I didn’t even know I had places. And muddy because all the slabs are dusty and dirty…. Then the hosepipe explodes, I get soaked and all the dusty mud turns to little rivers of slime. Guy leaves, refusing to give me a hug on the basis that I am ‘cold and clammy’. Still sopping wet and muddy I then discover that, in order to plug in their concrete mixer, Mike the Base has unplugged my freezer and the ENTIRE contents have defrosted. At this precise point my neighbour turns up (In A Clean Frock With Make Up And Smelling Nice) for a look at the work and enquires sweetly how it is all going….. I grit my teeth and say it’s Just Fine Thank You. She admires hole in ground, says it’s smaller than she expected (you and me both, love) and goes home happy and laden with two defrosted pizzas and most of my ice cream… I eat defrosted halibut. And lots of it. Make inroads into Sloe Gin….
On Thursday the wall progresses, I have halibut for breakfast (not recommended) and halibut (with cheese, this girl likes variety) for elevenses. Also not recommended. No news from builders, probably because of my somewhat terse Do Not Unplug This It Is My Freezer note on the socket.
On Friday I have halibut for breakfast again (make mental note to buy less halibut) and the pit wall is finished. And damp-proofed. And looks fine. Slightly too much to the left but – hey, it’s the right size, it’s done, It’ll Be Fine. If I say it often enough I’ll believe it…..
Saturday we plan to visit the salvage yard and I also have the truly brilliant idea of removing revolting rubble wall and rebuilding with decent stone wall. Well, what else would we have done with the day? I whizz (incredibly early – who needs sleep?) to the DIY store to buy ready mixed concrete and get 5 bags in the Smart. Guy arrives, we hurtle off (to avoid FA Cup traffic) to the salvage yard to look at slabs, floorboards and Other Things That You Find In Salvage Yards. Quite my favourite place – other girls do clothes shopping and boutiques. Me? Salvage yards – bliss! We find lots of suitable slabs and a truly stonking piece of oak for the end of the stud wall. About 300 years old, pitted, mis-shaped and utterly gorgeous. This will mean the stud wall is harder to make and the oak is, of course, outrageously heavy and will need 4 strong people to manoeuvre into place. Will this stop me? Of course not – I never was one to do things the easy way….
We return to the wall and get demolishing. And guess what? I now have a pile of rubble again! Hooray! I was missing it…. Mike the Base has left his concrete mixer, so we lob bags of readymix into it and start it going. Excellent machine! We mix and build and mix and build … and run out of concrete.
I whizz off (again) to the DIY store and am, by miles, the dirtiest person in there. The sun is shining, the birds are twittering, and it is ENTIRELY filled by Clean People in Nice Frocks. I have wellies, filthy jeans and cement in my hair. The two Clean People in Nice Frocks in front of me have a trolley containing…. a single pack of seeds. I have another five bags of readymix….
The wall is finished. We are knackered. The dog is knackered. We clean out the mixer, buckets, spade, trowel, me, Guy and then sit and have a Sloe Gin in the evening sunshine. Then we have another one…. The wall is a vast improvement, although I tell Guy I can already see one stone I’d like to reposition….
Guy says he thinks not.
On Sunday we have a nice lazy day off from Pool Stuff. Move two log piles, replant tubs on patio, sow seeds, do housework, laundry, ironing, visit DIY store to point at Clean People and buy tarpaulins (in readiness for Week 5…), sit in sunshine. See – lazy day.
Total hours worked: 1 standing in wellies on slurry worrying about pit wall, 11 hours hard labour on Saturday. Muscle tone improving nicely. Or at least it will be when I stop aching all over.
Achieved: A Pit Wall! And almost in the right place! Better retaining wall, and a new heap of rubble.
Purchases: Two stunning palms for the pool room (yes, yes, way too early, but they were a bargain.) And of course I have my name on that stunning piece of ancient oak.
Wine consumed: 1 bottle on Tuesday. It was a Bad Day. And then there was the sloe gin after the wall building. Purely medicinal.
Sarah’s tips on wall building: (1) don’t do the pointing with your fingers – it ruins your nails; (2) don’t stick your head in the concrete mixer to see if it’s clean and then bang the outside with your hand – the concrete will fall in your hair; (3) make sure you like the stones you use – or you’ll have to dismantle it to get at that one you don’t like at the bottom and somebody else will tell you you Can’t Do It.
Comments
Post a Comment