Piddling pipe problem

Weds: They took away the second mouldy sofa, then I mixed mortar and made the final seals on the drainage inspection chambers and shifted some more barrows of aggregate to fill up a low spot where a puddle fills between house and workshop.

Before lunch, and clutching the mysteriously problematic plumbing joint, I walked down to see my ex-plumber neighbour, Colin and, after he, Ceri and I had discussed mortality, cars and the returning swallows, he came back with me to see the problem in context. No revelations. Like me he was minded to improvise a washer from a section of inner tube or similar… But before resorting to such DIY practice I rang PumpExpress (who sold me the Powertank) and I sent them photos and a sketch and within twenty minutes they rang me back. While unable to identify the cause of the leak remotely they accepted that the leaking part was supplied by them and was still under a three-year guarantee (just). They put a replacement in the post immediately.

It was so nice not having to argue.

I decided I’d continue with ground work and level a section of the drive in front of the ramp to the front door to provide the required accessible access drop-off point. I’d dress it with a mixture of pea gravel and a little cement. Elsewhere this combination had provided a reasonably stable surface. I really don’t want to have to introduce paving slabs. My three metre straight edge and six foot level allowed me to gauge how much slope I had to cut away to create the level area (level with the bottom of the ramp to the front door) and I then cut two narrow trenches on the uphill sides, their bottoms at the required level. These gave me the necessary reference to reduce the three metre by two enclosed area.

I removed only enough material to need a dressing of maybe thirty millimetres. The mattock was my key tool, making light of getting those large protruding pieces of irregular stone out of the solid base, created for scaffolding and movement of machinery round the house. This relatively coarse excavated material went to the opposite corner of the house to level between two drain inspection chambers (where eventually we’ll put a table, to catch the evening sun), while the adjacent heap of peas (a marvellous cat-convenience) beside our front door provided the dressing.

I finished the day at about half six, with the dressing cemented, watered and covered (against the cats).

A large envelope of fabric samples arrived from the upholstery company we visited in Oban. Their colours are excellent and the material is a cotton/linen blend; exactly what we want.

Thursday – morning air temperature back to ten degrees, a cold wind despite some sunshine. By lunch time the air temperature was up to seventeen in the shade. I have several competing tasks but think things are falling into order. The failed lime render on the exposed sides of the Isoquick foam foundation needs to be refinished, or in some places replaced, and then painted with the lime paint (two big boxes; been standing in the hall for a year). I started scraping stones away from the render but on the corner nearest the drive was struck by the amount of fine mud and sediment, washed there by rain running down the drive.

To stop the volume of water reaching the house I must put in the long-planned channels across the drive to direct surface water into the ditch at either side, otherwise my renewed render will just be sat in a puddle and bathed in mud.

But as I plan to finish the track with a layer of MOT Type 1 I should lay this layer before placing the channels. I’ll need to hire a roller too and could do with some bodies – a bit of muscle to spread the twenty tonne truckload. In the meantime I found six pieces of seventy five millimetre wide larch and made up the two drainage channels, one five and one six metres long. This larch in the stack by the car was rejected for cladding the buildings but is still useful, except one piece where a sapwood edge had decayed so badly in four years you could crumble it in your hand. Avoid sapwood for exterior exposure!

As I pulled weeds and scraped peas from the edge of the foam foundation I found a hole. Further clearing revealed an alarming hole. My immediate fear was that a rat had made its own back door, but a large chunk of hardcore had apparently been rammed into the foam. I was angry it hadn’t been fixed when it happened, but on reflection thought that it might well never have been noticed. I considered how I might fix it but then thought it only reasonable to expect the responsible builder to help. I phoned him and he said he had some suitable, impermeable expanding foam and I went to pick it up. Andrew and Manda were busy on their new bothy, working seven days a week to have it ready to move into in July when their old house is finally sold.

I’ll trim the excess foam with a sharp craft knife then hide it all with some smaller less aggressive aggregate.

Friday eleven a.m. I got a call from PumpExpress to check that my replacement fittings had arrived. They hadn’t, but they came just after lunch.

Back into the pump shed. I took everything apart, mopped up the water that spilled out and tried to fit the new parts. The new collar was a very reluctant fit onto the existing thread, so tight I thought I must have cross-threaded it. After several careful attempts and afraid I’d damage something I set the new collar aside and used the old one. The new O-ring was a better fit in the pipe coming up from the tank and I put all the other components back together, tightened them up and turned the water on. Water dripped from two new places. I must have disturbed the other joints. Take things apart again, apply new PTFE tape where needed and carefully reassemble. My patience was wearing thin and I almost gave up, telling myself I’d approach it with renewed enthusiasm after the weekend, but I didn’t. Somehow I made a last effort, dried everything with a cloth and turned the water on again. I could spot no creeping silver beads and after leaving it for half an hour returned to find the same – all dry.

The edge of the house foundation is now cleared all the way round, ready for the lime render. It comes in ready mixed bags so just needs water and a thorough whisking. In anticipation I knocked up a new hawk.

You load the hawk with a few trowels of render and, holding it in one hand, use your trowel in the other hand to apply what you want to the chosen surface.

Foraging continues, constantly. Round the corner, beyond the confines of our loch, on the open coast Tash picked seaweed of various kinds and nettles. The nettles are perhaps at their best now, fresh, tender and abundant. We eat them combined with other greens, in curries and stews or mixed into the batter of gram flour pancakes. And they make a fabulous kombucha, no tea or other ingredients added, and strangely no hint of normal nettle taste.

Amongst the spring flowers and rushy leaves the first of the bracken is rising, tender as asparagus, and ticks are awake and on the move. The rich variety and beauty of our local landscape has its own negatives and limitations.

On her daily swim last week Tash encountered numbers of jellyfish she didn’t recognise, like little polythene bags of varied shape, with fine silvery markings but without apparent appendages or other features.

Monday: The rain is back and I wait for John the mechanic to call. At the weekend Martin came to visit and we drove round our loch and over the Kintyre peninsular. As the road rises there’s a magical spot where you can look back to see the Paps of Jura and ahead to the mountains of Arran. On the east coast we headed south, helped push an unwary motorist’s small car out of a ditch then stopped after a few miles for our picnic. The smell of diesel was obvious as soon as we got out and I traced it to the previously rodent nibbled fuel lines on top of the engine. After a few hours of beach play we made it back to Tarbert, dumped the car, the key and a note at the garage and hitched home.

Thanks for the lift Cameron (American visitor, flown in to Edinburgh that morning)!