Instant guest wing

Lacking grass to pitch the new tent on, we scratched a circle for the footprint and covered it with crumbled wood fibre insulation, hoping to protect the new groundsheet from any remaining stones.

Next two thicknesses of heavy duty polythene, then the tent, around which we cut off the excess plastic sheet.

Pegging out was straightforward and before we knew it…

…there was the new guest wing

But I digress; what of the house?

It’s been another of those not very concrete weeks, with seemingly little to show for the passing days. But I’ve been edging closer to installing the showers, trying the fittings and connections to get the best alignment of plumbing with the mixer valve, working out where I’d best bend some pieces of copper pipe to make a robust assembly, fixing loose pipework to the walls and ordering a couple more things that should make fitting the showers more satisfactory.

Tash and I spent several hours looking at tiles, as their thickness will dictate how thick a piece of wood I have to fix inside the wall to attach the mixer valve. I want as little of the shrouds (the chrome bits the knobs sit on top of) showing as possible. Some tile samples are on their way and hopefully their arrival will reduce the dizzying mental swirl caused by our exposure to too many screen images in too short a time.

My main focus is still on the commissioning of the heat pump, so more calls to the heating engineers as well as the electrician, who is required to be in attendance on the day, trying to find a date both could do. Eventual success – Tuesday the twenty seventh of July. But the house needed its connection to the water supply – something I’ve had reservations about as there’s always the chance of a leak…

I reviewed my stock of 32mm MDPE pipe, chunky plastic compression fittings and tools but remembered the pipe cutters are too small, as are all my spanners. Even a very simple wrench was uncomfortable costly, particularly as an item one would rarely use. I’d make one.

Cutting the pipe with the multitool worked okay and I made the new temporary plumbing arrangement, connecting both house and workshop via the filter. I’ll have to change the details once we get the tank and pump, but it will do for now.

The young electrician had left a plastic duct fixed across the opening where the pipes and cables go through the wall to the heat pump. I couldn’t get in to seal round the piercings and I couldn’t get my carefully made covering panel back on either. Turns out the offending bit of ducting could be removed. He’d left it for aesthetic reasons, which I found endearing rather than irritating, though in this case I didn’t share his aesthetic judgement.

Visitors: On Monday Jon dropped by, in the area for a holiday and keen to compare this blog with reality. Along with regular visitor, friend and helper David, we kayaked round Islay some considerable time ago and it was good to see him again and hear about his ongoing restoration of a sixty-foot herring boat. Two more friends arrived yesterday, laden with wine, books and olives – our first guests to be put up in the new tent. Before letting them out for the day I had them help me with turning on the water in the house, practical as well as moral support. Billy manned the stopcock, Minna stalked the ground floor and Tash and I patrolled upstairs. Billy turned the water on but, after an initial gurgling, nothing happened. I went to check my pipes outside – all correct – fearing the pipe to the house, lying unconnected for a year, had somehow become blocked. Digging it up would be a horrible job. My mind was racing. I went back into the plant room and looked round. The ball lever valve installed by the real plumber was off. I’d turned it off as a precaution and forgotten. With the valve opened, water gurgled and rushed in, filling the three hundred and five litre hot water tank and working its way through the system. There were no shouts of “leak”, no hissing or dripping. Everything seems fine.

Tash and the visitors went for a walk to the shed at the end of the world and Billy recorded a grasshopper warbler on his phone. A brilliant tick!

Wednesday was interrupted by the unmissable social engagement of a swim across the loch, the resumption of an annual neighbourly event. The swim crosses at the narrowest part, about eight hundred metres, accompanied by a safety boat in which we were conveyed to the far side to swim back. I thought myself unlikely to sink with a wetsuit on. I made it but must get better at swimming.

The structural OSB lining is now done. This week I finished the magic room and bedroom one but yesterday, still feeling the day had been a bit thin, I cut and fitted a piece of plywood lining for the big skylight in bedroom one while the others strolled out for an evening swim.

Last Sunday we had a late breakfast. We were sitting at the table sipping coffee when a pine marten trotted down the drive. It crossed to where we were going to put the bell tent and paused. Exactly as we’d imagined it would be: alert, cheeky, inquisitive-looking; almost cartoon-like. It scampered up the bank and was gone, leaving mental pictures stronger than any photo.