Dash slap

I’m writing this from High Wycombe where, for a few days, I’m returning the favour, helping my son and his partner with the space that will soon be their kitchen. Every now and then I hear something that’s reminiscent of a shepherd whistling his dog, but is actually the call of one of the many locally resident red kites. On Friday I’ll be in Bristol for the funeral of Angelo, another ex Blue Aeroplane, and then I hope to be travelling home to Tash.

Week of the Mon 6 Nov: I’m trying not to be slap dash as I know I’d regret it later, but there’s an insidious pull in that direction, just to be ‘finished’. As I paint a piece of architrave I notice a split corner and a missing chip on one side. It needs some glue, some filler, which will then need rubbing down and the paint retouching. I consider whether it will be seen and, as it will, I overcoming my reluctance and start the repair.

Tash went south for a week on Friday and as I was planning ‘a day off ‘ in Lochgilphead on Monday (Jewsons, recyclng centre, dentist, shopping, then maybe three hours or so for myself in the great outdoors) I worked on Saturday. On with the woodwork then, just before dusk, I loaded the car with assorted rubbish, including a builder’s bag half full of scrap timber that I can’t use or burn (nasty preservative). At the recycling centre there’s a bay just for wood. It feels good not to be sending it for landfill.

Another week of fragmentation.

Monday: in the dark of the Greenwich Meantime morning, I saw half a dozen woodcock beside our B-road. New arrivals I think, judging by their lack of alarm at a car so close. I was on my way to the dentist in Lochgilphead, where I learnt that a recently unhappy and now insensible tooth will have to go. I accepted a nine a.m. cancellation booking for Friday. It was either that or wait until February twenty twenty four.

Tuesday: I got the car to the garage at eight thirty for work needed prior to M.O.T., then hitched home, walking two miles before getting a lift, but picking some apples from a tree I’d not noticed before, between road and loch. They were small and scabby; I think they’re beautiful and they tasted good.

Andrew and Karen came round for coffee, (we have a few belongings stored in their ‘barn’ – a large asbestos animal shed). Their build, up on the hill, has finally started, the foam foundation is down and a very well finished concrete slab has been cast into it. A slab with a stupendous view! They were keen to see how our place is looking, what decisions we’d made and whether there are ideas they can apply to their project. It’s hard to know what people take away with them after a visit, but there’s a shared sense of enthusiasm and excitement, theirs as they’ve just started and ours as we approach the other end. When they’ve left I carry on with skirting and architrave, then reaching a natural impasse turn my attention to the understairs cupboard.

It needs a door and a structure on which to hang it. I measured the door I might use, measured the remaining space, cut a structural post and held it in position, thinking about how I might secure it and the rest of the structure.

Wednesday: Fiona came by at coffee time to check plans for cat and chicken sitting as the Jewson lorry backed down our drive with a pallet of fifteen sheets of plywood (8 x 18mm, 5 x 12mm, 2 x 3.6mm), destined to become our wall of drawers. Thankfully the entire package was well wrapped so I didn’t have to bring it into the living room sheet by sheet – the only available space.

The afternoon was broken by a meeting of Nether Auchans’ residents (at our house; a novelty for all) to discuss necessary and imminent work we’ll be doing on our shared track. Filling potholes or more extensive? How many metal drainage channels should we buy (2nd hand Armco crash barrier rails)? Do we hire the roller now or later? I provided tea and my home made vegan biscuits, which were ‘interesting’ and looked like fishcakes. Earlier I’d called a recommended quarry to get a price for a twenty tonne load of the M.O.T. type one (aggregate) that we’d need for the shared track. I’ll probably buy the same for our drive and also some of the Armco…

Sealing the covers onto the drains’ inspection chambers is one of my remaining building warrant tasks and, as it wasn’t raining, I got down to this novel task. The plastic chambers come as a series of interlocking rings (about four hundred and fifty millimetres tall) that you can trim to the desired height. And there’s the rub; what is your finished ground level going to be? Are you paving it? How thick is the paving? How deep will the mortar be? These details I’ve skimmed over, so far.

The three metre straight edge and long level came into play and when I’d made a decision (that on reflection I might well change) I set to with the multi-tool. It cuts the plastic very easily.

The inspection chamber is finished off with a removable cover in a frame and, using a little copper wire that the electricians threw away, I wired the frame to the top flange of the chamber. Later I’ll haunch concrete round it to form the seal. Now I understand how the system works I’ll need to think in detail about all the levels and then attend to each inspection chamber, finishing off with the concrete haunching when I’m sure. As we don’t want to see the black plastic covers, particularly near the house, I’m inclined to set them low enough for a circular piece of stone or concrete slab to sit on top, its upper surface level with the surrounding paving, whether stone or gravel.

Thursday: a clear night delivered dramatic skylight frost patterns

I hitched to Tarbert to collect my car, walking contentedly, absorbed in the intense autumnal colours. There was very little traffic going my way and after three miles the third vehicle – a Landrover pulling a horsebox – gave me a lift. The driver, who sought assurance that they were not going to be murdered, was off to meet a friend for a canter on Machrihanish beach, three miles of sand on the west coast of Kintyre.

My car was fixed and the mechanic had got my MOT at the only other local garage. No problems.

Back home I took a few more measurements under the stairs and sketched out a definitive plan for the structure of the doorway, then carried on with architrave and skirting. To finish the under stairs cupboard I’ll need a long narrow piece of plywood. Perhaps a left-over from the wall of drawers project.

At six p.m Patryk came round and in three trips we ferried the plywood a mile, up to his unfinished house where he’ll be building the drawers. It took best part of two hours.

Friday: Lochgilphead at nine a.m. for the undramatic removal of my tooth. My depleted self was out within twenty five minutes, residual anaesthetic making my face behave as though I’d had a mini-stroke or Bell’s Palsy. Every now and then I had to close my right eyelid manually. For therapy I bought more wood then went home and edged the stair stringers with it, mopped the slate floor and hoovered upstairs.

I routed a groove along the length of the understairs door post, in accordance with my definitive plan – my week was done.