TAKING SHAPE

Many thanks to Richard and Doug who helped erect the posts last week.

I did say it was going to be a church didn't I?



ONE MAN'S CEILING IS ANOTHER MAN'S FLOOR

These 8 be 3s are heavyyyy



suki seems to like her new temporary staircase



it's reassuring when the structural engineer
agrees to go to the top of the building (accompanied by his physio)



the view from the top



SOME LIKE IT HOT



It seems only a moment since it was snowing.
Now I need the shade and a little privacy doesn't go amiss.

No roof and no rain.

The right height for the windows proved controversial
and went right up to board level

It's helpful to be able to walk through the walls.



Ground floor walls now sheathed
- getting everything square and vertical has been the main problem.

64 first floor joists arrive - the task for May.

The manager of the local timber merchant is becoming quite friendly, rubbing his hands at the prospect of cladding, staircases windows and the rest. Those planks of 16mm OSB are delivered to my mother's double car-port for sizing, where of course Monte the delivery man gets tea and ginger cake. Connections have been made as word gets about here. On balance, I see prices going up.

FRAMING

It's very exciting to see the views being framed by windows and doors. It's also good to be able to walk through the walls, but that won't remain the case for very long very long. The prospect of views from the first floor is very exciting.

Front window overlooking the new bird sanctuary created by The Environment Agency

Rear view overlooking SSSI

BASE EIGHT

Rear section of framing nearly complete

Utility room

The problem with millimetres is that I can’t see them very well. Further more centimetres cannot be divided in half but not by four. Oh for the days of inches and eighths of them. An inch you can divide by half, four, eight. Half of three quarters is three eights. But then the Romans built the whole empire with letters. Only the Babylonians had numbers giving their descendants the ability to bomb them with precision. My main problem with millimetres is confusing say 2304 with 2340. No chance of confusing 7’3 7/8” with 7´8 1/4”. I wonder if the Romans made mistakes. Was that viaduct designed to take water from Birmingham to Wales?

I have managed to frame all the back section this week, even allowing time to correct one or two mistakes. Hopefully there aren’t any I haven’t noticed. As someone said – there are known knowns … there are known unknowns … but there are also unknown unknowns - if so I shall have to curse my knitting needles and go back several rows.

Its getting warmer and I am having to adopt sun cream.

Back in the real world there is a worthy cause to sing the Verdi requiem from memory – again - in the Queen Elizabeth Hall – it’s a full life.

SECOND INVASION OF WILLIAM THE CONCRETER



concrete pump




patio shuttering




Pete & Richard




2 lorries - 11 cubic metres




front section compete




that orange thing in the sky is called the sun




fence posts in


I have discovered what makes William happy; it’s a delivery where there is no concrete left over. Surely there must be some sort of scheme for concrete left-overs – a channel tunnel perhaps?
Unfortunately Paul’s pump has died so I have had to get another contractor in – this one rather larger like a giant angle lamp, and rather more expensive. Pete and Richard helped out and it all went smoothly. The shuttering for my curved patio made up by thin slats of timber managed to survive the weight of concrete, and the nightmare of concrete going off in the wrong place did not materialize.

Richard has also built the fence for my neighbour after we knocked the last remaining wall of the old bungalow down – fortunately in the right direction.

TOOLS

Does anyone else get sentimental about tools? Aren’t they found in burial mounds? Of the six chisels my father gave me one Christmas there are three left. I did ask him why I needed six chisels, being only about six at the time. He said – you never know. One got squashed when the front section of the old bung collapsed rather earlier than anticipated – I was almost in tears.

I have found another brilliant place in Rye, tucked away out of reach of the health and safety inspector – a metal-working engineering firm. As soon as you walk in you know this is a good place where useful stuff is done. There is gentle hum of very heavy machinery and a smell of oil presiding over an overwhelming sense of procedural chaos. There is a reception but actually if you want to talk to anyone you have to make your way across a labyrinth of lathes to the hairy man in the corner. That will be an hours work - 40 quid - for the vital part for my 52-18=34 year old woodworking lathe (a child compared with this lot).