BrideShedRevisited

Phew! I guess I made the mistake of thinking it would be easy….

First of all the old terrace had to be removed. Picked all the slabs off then demolished the wall – very good for removing frustrations! Apart from the bottom line which had obviously been superglued to the ground.

On Saturday Darren the Digger came – a wonderful bloke with a dinky little digger. He arrived before the skip did, so couldn’t really get started, although he did, with two nudges of his digger, remove the entire bottom line of stone that I hadn’t been able to shift.

Then the skip turned up. I had already warned my neighbours at the end of the lane that a few people would need to turn round down there, so the skip man went along the lane. He seemed to be taking an awfully long time to come back, and then we heard the sound of sawing. He had knocked a tree down. Not only that, but when he needed to turn round, the neighbours (Dave and Lynne) saw him and said ‘we’ll nip out ahead of you our dog is sick we have to get to the vets’. Sadly the skip man didn’t mention he’d knocked a tree down, so Dave and Lynne had to find a saw and start sawing. I whizzed along to help by shoving and pulling. Eventually the tree was free and we dragged it into the wood so that Dave and Lynne could get going….

And we started clearing. There was a lot of rubble. A midi skip holds about 3 tons. Darren estimated there was 24 tons to remove. Bummer. I phoned the skip people – no more skips available. I phoned around, and found one somewhere else, to be delivered ‘Saturday’. The idea had been to push all the earth along and make a new landscaped bank. Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Neat rubble, no earth whatsoever.

Plan B: Create perfectly hideous retaining wall out of revolting rubble and shove other rubble behind it. Guy and I started building what we considered very splendid wall. Darren said it reminded him of ‘Builders from Hell’. Funny man. Endless rubble. Darren went and got a flat bed lorry, loaded it with rubble and took it off to a mate’s land to dump it.

Darren doesn’t eat lunch. So neither did I…

Then the second skip arrived. I had whizzed out to borrow Guy’s car (parked further away in the village) to get extra cash to pay for all the extra skips, hours etc. Found skip man completely lost – he suggested I hopped into the cab and off we went. Driving up the lane, he got the lifting mechanism completely stuck on a neighbour’s tree. Solution: Stuff foot on accelerator and ignore damage to tree. Didn’t work…. Eventually went backwards, dropped skip to dangle off back, carried on up lane. Scary stuff. Also tried to run over neighbour’s dog when turning round. Luckily didn’t succeed.

Dumped skip (and I do mean dumped – he left it on it’s side. Very helpful). Darren the Digger managed to manhandle it (strong bloke) and we carried on. Two skips full, one revolting retaining wall, and 4 trips with a flat bed full of rubble to the mate’s land. Guy went to inspect the tree that the second skip driver had hit. Major damage to tree. Tree hanging on telephone wire precariously over public footpath and only route of access. Phoned emergency tree surgeon. Went to apologise to neighbour (who was very sweet) and then to other neighbours to tell them the lane would be blocked for a bit.

Tree bloke arrived within an hour. Seriously cute tree surgeon – anyone need a tree felling? Sort of Aussie surfer look – gorgeous! And his assistant was tall dark and handsome with lovely teeth. They probably thought I was gorgeous too. I had been caught in the rain and was covered in mud by this time. Not my best look….. They spent twenty minutes drinking tea then felled tree. Enormous logs and zillions of branches all over the lane.

Darren still moving rubble by this time. Wall revolting but still standing. Tree blokes went. Darren flattened what was left and went. Guy went (off to a gig – how he stayed awake I don’t know) and I had a VERY LARGE glass of wine. Forgot I hadn’t had lunch. Result: instant sloshedness. Started clearing up tree debris. Plonked the logs on the drive – too knackered to move them anywhere else. Realised logs in way of skip removal. Tough!

Sunday – DAY OFF! Ok, so I got up early and did three barrowloads of stone removal, then I got CLEAN and my brother and his wife came to lunch. Stiff as a board….

Monday – moved MORE stones. Filled the second skip completely. Moved all the logs (again) out of way of skips. Flattened new flowerbed area above revolting wall – looks ok. Apart from the revolting wall, obviously. Stiff as a board again, better after 9 hours stone shifting. Think I may be a bit stiff tomorrow though….

Total hours worked: 21 hours solid physical labour. And that was just me….

Casualties: 2 trees, 1 knackered dog, 14 new bruises, couple of cracking scratches.

Achieved: terrace gone, flat area, hideous wall, two very full skips.

Wine consumed: 3 bottles. (In my defence, 1 ½ were at lunch on Sunday)

PS: The neighbour’s dog will be fine – she had an infection but it’s treatable.

At the beginning of the week my ‘New Pool Owners Pack’ arrived from the US! Fab – this means I am a New Pool Owner! Hard to believe when there’s just a revolting wall and a flat space, but I am officially a New Pool Owner. Cracking pack of goodies – big scary manual, videos on installation, DVD on something or other, swatches of colours for covers and liners, lump of aluminium coping (make an excellent doorstop) and, best of all a pair of flip flops printed with ‘Some Assembly Required’ and a packet of popcorn. Excellent – these are My Kind Of People! Naturally I ignored all the techy stuff and (a) played with the flip flops, (b) investigated the popcorn. There was also a small disposable camera in the New Pool Owners Pack with a return padded envelope to the US. Having skipped reading the techy stuff, I presume I am meant to take pics of the pool being installed and send it back to the US. Either that or they want nice photos of me and the cats…..

On Wednesday Mike the Base arrived very early in the morning to mark up the beautifully flattened area for the pit – as the pool is going to be ‘partially inground’ a pit needs to be dug. Why don’t I make life easy for myself? If it was going to be wholly above ground, it would have been: Flat area, concrete on top, build pool. But oh no, I decide it would be nicer partially inground, so it’s Flat area, dig pit, dig drainage channel, build pit wall, make concrete base, back fill, top concrete base, build pool. WAY more difficult…. But it will be gorgeous…. (so I keep telling myself, over and over). So Mike the Base, George and Fish (so called because apparently he can’t swim) (nope – I don’t get it either) came to put yellow lines on the flat bit so that Darren the Digger could come back and dig. I went to work with an idiot grin on my face until well into the afternoon – lines on ground mean pool is happening! And it really did look exciting! By the evening it had rained and the lines had mostly disappeared….

When Planning Permission was granted it didn’t come with a nice ‘well done here’s your planning permission have a lovely build’ letter, but rather a stark ‘YOU HAVE NOT GOT BUILDING REGULATION APPROVAL DO NOT START WORK DO NOT PASS GO DO NOT COLLECT £200’ sort of notice pinned to it. Scary. Especially as I had ordered (a) a Pool and (b) a Shed. So I booked Friday afternoon off work as holiday specifically to go and talk to the Building Regs people. I had already phoned and yes, as my building is 30.87 sq m, Building Regs is needed – it is required for any building over 30 sq m. Only just over the limit - bummer. Went all the way to the offices (40 minutes up into the valleys) and spoke to a rather sad tired little man. I explained my building was 30.87 sq m. He sighed and said ‘can’t you make it any smaller?’ but I said I couldn’t as the shed was already ordered…. So he sighed again, went off to find the paperwork and eventually shuffled out to where I was sitting waiting (remarkably patiently due to the fact I was being thoroughly entertained by a kebab shop owner in breach of opening hours having a stand up shouting match with a planning official). We started filling out the copious form – Mrs Palter? Er, no, not quite…. Good start. I asked if the measurements went on external or internal size of building. ‘Internal’ my little man said. ‘Excellent!’ said I, ‘that means I can take the wall area off’. ‘Let’s call that 2m’ said the little man happily, and screwed up all the paperwork. Result: Building regs NOT required, afternoon off total waste of time. Still – look on the bright side – no officials poking round telling me my electric cable is in the wrong place – much easier!

As there was still a lot of free afternoon left, I went for a haircut. Bad move. I was so busy thinking about Building Regs (or the lack of requirement of) that I forgot to say ‘please don’t cut too much off’ until Zoe was half way across my head and amazingly close to my scalp…. Result: seriously short haircut. Practically no hair at all in fact. Must stop being besotted by pool and Begin To Concentrate on Other Things. Later on Friday Guy gave me a beautiful bouquet of red roses. So what did I do? Leave them behind and rush off to do Pool Stuff. Poor Guy had to bring them round to my house and give them to me again. Must stop being besotted by pool and Begin To Concentrate On Other Things.

On Saturday Darren the Digger came back again to dig the pit and removed another 20 tons of stuff. The pit is ENORMOUS! And it slopes. I know it slopes because I can climb out of one end and not out of the other. Mike the Base will presumably fix this – if not, the water will slope…. Because of the heavy clay the pit is already filling up. Another couple of weeks and I’ll be swimming in it …

Weirdly, no rubble this time. At least, not until Darren got to the trenches (drainage and electrics) when suddenly all the rubble reappeared. Result: Not neat little trenches, but socking great craters. And rubble all over the bit we had cleared last weekend. Weep? Of course not. Drink? Absolutely. It was another long physical day - I’m going to need this pool to revive my aching muscles! And it was my birthday….. helluva way to spend it – up to my knees in mud and dead bricks. Actually, it was very exciting and I can’t think of many better ways to spend a birthday!

Ok – lazing on a Caribbean beach with £4m in the bank and a long cooling cocktail would beat it….

My two lovely bosses at work gave me my birthday presents on Friday – a long piece of foam rubber and a plastic inflatable pool chair! Brill pressies or what? Except that I didn’t know what the foam rubber thing was – apparently it’s called a water log, and you can float on it, use it for aerobics and Generally Have Fun With It. This is great – I’m getting pressies for a pool I haven’t got yet!!! Actually, I jumped the gun on buying pressies for the pool too – I bought four acrylic wine goblets so that I can laze in my pool with a glass of something … I think ‘goblet’ is bigger than ‘glass’. Terrible shame….

Total hours worked: another 9 hours solid physical labour. Am thinking of calling it a gym and charging people to join.

Achieved: Huge pit dug, 20 tons of rubbish removed, two trenches, bigger piles of rubble. Like a girl needs rubble…

Actions resulting from state of thinking constantly about pool: Probably will never be given red roses again; haircut from hell.

Pressies and Purchases: Fab water log, technicolor floaty chair, 4 acrylic wine goblets, Do-It-Yourself flip flops and a bag of microwave popcorn.

Wine consumed: 4 bottles. Well, it was my birthday. And the wine goblets needed testing. Yep – they really do hold half a bottle each….

Week started well enough with another package from Endless Pools! I like these people – they keep sending me pressies! Unexpected package contained a CD version of their web site and a pair of goggles. I thought they were ‘wear before drilling concrete to protect your eyes’ sort of goggles, but a closer inspection revealed they were in fact swimming goggles! Excellent – now I have flip flops, goggles, a water log and an inflatable chair… All I need is the pool… Mike the Base phoned to say he wouldn’t be coming until the end of next week…. And everything came to a grinding halt.

Massive thunderstorm threatened to bring down the sides of the pit – and filled it with 8” of filthy water. With creepy crawlies swimming in it…..

Was much boosted by the news on the radio early in the week. Electricity is going up by 25%. Water prices are going up by 50%. So what am I doing? Yep – putting in an electrically heated swimming pool. Marvellous. Also an article in the paper saying that if you put a swimming pool in you instantly lose 54% of its value. I DON’T CARE I’M NOT SELLING IT I JUST WANT TO SWIM IN IT!

Wyn the Wire came round on Wednesday with Mrs Wyn and his dog to discuss electrics. OK, so the dog didn’t help much, but she’s very sweet. We’ve agreed the dual rate meter, cabling, lighting, switches, outside light, alarm and possibly even future heating for the winter. Wow. Not bad for one night….

On Thursday Mike the Base phoned to say he was of course arriving on Friday to put concrete in the bottom of the pit. Surprise! I asked if it mattered that there was 8” of water in it. Yep. I emailed the rest of my office to muster volunteers to help bail out the water with promises of alcohol and chocolate roulade. NO TAKERS (you rotten lot – it will be remembered)! I emailed Guy – who promptly came round with his wellies.

We started with buckets, me standing in the water in my wellies and lobbing it into a wheelbarrow before Guy took it away to throw on a flowerbed. It did occur to me while I was standing nearly knee deep in mud brown water that the next time I get to splash around in the same place it should be in a swimming pool! Hopefully the water will be cleaner. VERY slow progress – plan B needed! So we fixed up the hosepipe to siphon the water out – and went to have a drink instead….

Up at 6 on Friday to bucket the remaining water out (fill bucket, slither to end of pit, climb out, stretch across electricity trench, chuck water on garden, stretch back across trench, climb back into pit, slither to watery end and start again). I lost count after 27 trips… Remembered to have a shower before work (good idea) then Mike the Base turned up with a motley crew of helpers. Didn’t seem to have the tools they needed, no extension cable and one of them broke his hammer before they started – No, it’s fine, I’m sure they’re really good….

Mike rang mid morning. ‘How critical is the depth of the pit?’ ‘Er, very.’ ‘Alright then, your pit’s way too deep, we’re going to have to fill it with rubble.’ AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh! That’ll be the rubble we spent THREE BLOODY DAYS shifting then? I tell him to dismantle the revolting wall and put that in the pit. He rings back a bit later to say he thinks he’s sorted it - ‘we’ve chucked all them slabs in’. That’ll be ‘them slabs’ off the old terrace which Guy and I moved (twice) and carefully stored for another project. Seems they are now buried under assorted other rubble and 8” of concrete…. AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh! Will now have to buy new slabs for other garden project.. Would resort to drink mid morning but feel office colleagues might notice… Sit and whimper instead. Office colleagues notice.

Arrive home after work to site of only marginally less devastation than when I left it. Concrete slurry everywhere, pit almost filled up again, massive tree root cut out so tree will probably fall over on top of new shed, practically all slabs gone, revolting wall still intact.

Total hours worked: About 3 hours bailing, but if you count the ‘worrying time’ then, quite frankly, I’ve lost track….

Achieved: Huge pit nearly filled in again, no slabs, significantly less rubble, still have revolting wall.

Pressies and Purchases: Swimming goggles, beautiful red blanket which I forgot to mention I bought and it’s lovely and yes, of course it’s jumping the gun to have a blanket and a colour scheme for a project that is still a hole in the ground, but who cares? Three lovely candles for atmosphere from Anna together with a BOTTLE OF SLOE GIN - THIS WOMAN UNDERSTANDS ME!

Wine consumed: 4 bottles. Again. Wyn the wire came for dinner with Mrs Wyn, there was all that bailing out, and then there was the bit about the slabs…. Resolve to drink less wine next week. No such resolve regarding the newly acquired bottle of Sloe Gin…

Casualties: I am seriously fearing for my sanity….

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 – I’m going to have muscles in places I didn’t even know I had places soon. 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 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.

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. 

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. 

In 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!