Well it may be the season of mists etc etc, but it’s not been my finest month. Progress at George St is painfully slow, although I must point out that this has nothing to do with the trades people we have had. They have all been fantastic, and worked away tirelessly. They have also all communicated amongst themselves about who is doing what when ,which has saved me an awful lot of long distance organising. If the electrician pops his head round the door to find the plasterer still working away, he’ll simply come in another day to do his bit. I’ve learned a lot too, about ensuring everybody is singing from the same hymn sheet, or in this case working on the same kitchen plan..nearly a bit of a mishap there if the electrician hadn’t phoned to make sure of the position of the sink.
No what has really held everything up is that as we stripped the flat back to the bare bones, more problems emerged, as they do. Now the ceiling is free from paper, the plaster is revealed as being dodgy as hell, and the whole lot needs to come off. I know the alternative is to be rustling up a gourmet dinner on the two ring hob, only to have a big dod of plaster fall upon my unsuspecting head. But I so wanted to get the floor tiled and a kitchen in! And now we’ll have to wait a bit longer.
The other big problem with property development in Millport is getting rid of the rubbish and masonry. Chris and I loaded up the car a few weekends ago with the rubbish from the cellar, soon to be renamed “the utility room” which will house a washing machine and a tumble drier. There were lots of tins of paint with one inch of twenty year old gloss paint in fetching shades of magenta or navy blue, and as we loaded them up I could hear, I swear, my dad tutting at the waste of it. Why, a bit of white spirit, a smidgen of parrifin and four hours of continual stirring, Jen , and you could use that paint for something! Don’t throw it out!! I ignored dad’s remonstrations from beyond the grave, and turned my attention to the bundle of canoe paddles , roller skates and frayed garden chairs.To finish off the pile in the back of the car, we added the water heater from the kitchen. I was rather sorry to see it go ,as it sounded like a bugle when you turned the tap on and Chris and I had several games of “name that tune” on it. I suspect the new Redring under sink heater won’t have the same appeal.
As we drove to the tip the next day, I told Chris I could hear interesting glugging noises coming from the back of the car. Chris informed me that it would be paint glugging around in the tins. I said I didn’t think so . When we arrived at the tip and opened the tailgate, about ten gallons of very smelly water cascaded out onto my feet. I love being right, but not at the expense of my shoes.It was of course, the leaking water heater, and the car still smells like a sewer.
I love going to the tip. It gives me a sense of deep satisfaction to separate my rubbish and bung it all in the correct bits, and drive off with an empty car and a smug feeling of having recyled where I can . I’d love it even more if the nearest tip to us in Millport wasn’t forty five minutes and a ferry trip away, outside Largs.
Anyway, that’s where we are this month- not really a lot further forward than last month, which is disappointing but inevitable.
On a personal level, and on a serious note I have spent many a sleepless night over Lanky Boy aka Jamie, worrying about his ability to cope with the terrible strain of watching his best friend die of cancer. It’s not something I ever had to do at his age, and the realisation that you are not invincible must hit hard. His friend ,of course, must be going through the worst nightmare of his life, and I can only guess what his parents and family must be feeling. Deep down I feel ashamed at the relief I feel that it’s not my son, not my baby , but at the same time I’m so sore and sick inside to see Jamie suffer. He’s been friends with the lad since the start of secondary school, and a more gentle, kinder soul you couldn’t meet. My thoughts go with him and his family.
………another good one ,you’re majesty,. But I feel sad for your son and his friend and his family.To watch a loved one die at any age is heartbreaking,but for someone so young–it doesn’t feel “”normal”"(if people know what I mean)
I know exactly what you mean. It’s terrible when he had so much ahead of him.
I usualy load my garage with junk ie old toilet,I replaced and after a while we drive to the local dump, it’s ten munites drive. It’s good to get the good car back(wife’s)in the garage as winter is coming. my old 2000 car stays out all winter for me and the dug.(I drive) Sorry to hear about the illness, theres so much of it now.All the money spent looking for a cure as well. You will be glad to get the place all finished. Hope to see photos when all is finished.
Are you sure you were not singing in the car and that was the gurgle:)
*furryhugs* to Lanky Lad from me’n'Marmers and the pu’s landlady.
Well, you asked for it, LL!
Good to learn that recycling is catching on in Scotland, too. One doesn’t get that impression from the skip at Largs Marina, which contains all sorts of offensive rubbish mixed together. THrowing out old stuff is great for the soul, one becomes uncluttered down to the very quick, and life takes on a slightly more rosy tint for an hour or two. With you there, LL!
Sorry to hear about the plaster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic to get rid of all that wallpaper – I did try to warn you.
That HarryD, he must be hitting the bottle pretty often these days. He would never have dared to make such a comment half a year ago. What a scunner!
Wow Barney, I guess I should get life,Scunner is strong for my huge crime , you will drive me to drink. I better clean my act.
WHAT????Harry you mean you haven’t trained your dog to drive??
Oooh that’s a good idea, Harry, your dog could drive and Mrs Darling can navigate. I think Barney is being a tad unkind- after all, you only got drunk, left badly spelled and weird comments on everybody’s blogs, eh now? And Taddoe and I agree that even drunk you are more sensible than a lot of other bloggers..
Everybodies Blogs? 2 BLOGS. Weird comments. I’d say
friendly comments spelled incorrectly. Eveybody should
try it sometime. My dog is a female dog and has the female trait of wanting everything done for her.
In that case I must be well in touch with my feminine side…
you got me thinking KC. I must be the same as My wee wife does a lot.
Me – unkind? Pop over for a wee dram, harryD, we can filosofize aboot – women. There’s something to be said for every one of them – sometimes.
All nice things,of course,barney.
Especially on the home decoration front
Wimmin are purrfect every time. And right. In a nice sort of way of course…
How is lanky boy’s friend???
Thanks for asking taddoe,.He’s not wanting to see anyone really, I think he feels too ill, which I think Lanky Boy is finding difficult. He’s torn between wanting to see him, and dreading seeing him so ill. I’m worried Lanky is avoiding visiting him because he is finding it hard to cope with…
Its a hellish situation for all those involved–I think the boys will work something out between them–if lanky boy is a bit scared maybe he can write/email his friend explaining his feelings??give him a big hug from me:
That’s a good idea, Taddoe. I think you’re right too though, that they will sort it out somehow between them. I guess I need to trust the lads to do what’s right somehow. Thanks !!