Indecision

Last Wednesday Michael came over to show us the plans, ideas and sketches that he’d come up with for the house. He was rather excited that, having previously said it wasn’t an option, he now thought it was possible that we could have a first floor extension above the garage. This would follow a similar, pitched roof, design to the one he designed for the people five doors along from us. He was also aware, as we had been since looking in the estate agent’s window on Saturday, that their house is for sale for two thirds more than we bought our house for. For Michael this meant that, since their house is smaller than ours, we could spend all of this difference on our house and still be in profit. He’s deluded and working on a very different budget to me. He confirmed this when he mentioned that the kitchen in his home cost £40,000. That’s several thousand more than my first house cost. Despite this I was intrigued that the first floor was again a possibility and Marianna was very excited by the idea. However, during the meeting I became concerned that it wasn’t ever our first option and with the pitched roof and me being six foot one (and a bit) I’d have two rooms much of which I couldn’t stand up in. I also worry about our building taking daylight out of Martin and Anne's house. All we could do now though was let him investigate the possibility of the first floor extension since it’s quite likely that we won’t get the planning permission granted. I must have been looking pretty virile the last time we met since he'd arbitrarily labelled one of the rooms in the extension 'Nursery'. We chose him over the other architect applicants because he came up with some good ideas when we first met and he’d sketched out some of these; including having an alcove with cupboards just inside the front door and removing the wall which separates the kitchen from the sitting room. We dismissed all of these though apart from extending the downstairs toilet into the space below the stairs. Marianna came up with many ideas, especially for rearranging the second floor rooms and having a ‘Jack and Jill’ door system. Roles have now been established; we come up with ideas and he tells us how unrealistic they are. There was also a lot of discussion about moving the first floor stairs. He didn’t think this could be done as it had been done in Becky’s house but, since Marianna remained very keen on this, he said he’d give it more thought. The worst bit of news was that it could take five months to get all of the planning permission sorted out. This was the meeting for making final decisions. We didn’t. We made a date to meet again.

Marianna and I discussed the plans over the following days. She drew new ideas and we marked the floors with sticky tape for where walls and furniture might be. However, when Michael knocked at the door again five days later we still hadn’t reached a decision about the first floor extension. We had hoped to visit the people five doors along and have another look at their place but they appeared to be on holiday. Or hiding from us. We had, though, made decisions for a version of the house without the first floor although these changed again when they were discussed with Michael. At one point during our discussions one of the squirrels appeared in the garden and was chased up a tree by next door’s cat. Michael commented that he put traps out for squirrels in his garden. I didn’t ask what he did with them once they'd been caught. Use the meat for kebabs? Use the fur for merkins? As we discussed extending the house for children we don’t have and guests that may never visit I think we were tiring him a bit and he offered the opinion that we should have lived in the house for at least a year before we did anything to it. We reminded him about the sockets and lights that don’t work, and the plumbing and the heating and that none of the windows are airtight. He was a bit quiet after that. I was able to visualise the house with a ground floor extension but was struggling to visualise it with the pitched roof. The more we discussed it the more my head and the world began to spin. Did I want a project this big? My idea of a project is to alphabetise my CD’s. This was the meeting for making final decisions. We didn’t. We made a date to meet again.

Gardeners

Since the vine had penetrated the bricks at the front of the house and neighbour Becky had told us that at the back it was going under the flat roof it had to be removed at the back too. Marianna thought that it might save us some time to get a professional gardener to come and deal with it. Last Sunday the first professional came to give us a quote. He was aged about nineteen and probably working within restrictions set by an ASBO. He quoted £180 and when we said we were getting a second quote later in the week this suddenly dropped to £150. We said we’d let him know.

On Thursday a second gardener came. He had a notebook and made notes while I was pointing out where we had ivy and would like to not have ivy. What was there to write? Anyway, he quoted £475. I’ve had holidays that cost me less. He pointed out that this included a discount though for what I’m not sure. I told him that we’d be getting a second quote and he told me that anyone who quoted less than £300 was a cowboy and that he’d been in gardening for 20 years and had undertaken 1500 vine removals. I tried to work out 1500 multiplied by £475 and wondered why he hadn’t retired. I said I’d let him know.

That evening the two of us began removing the ivy and continued with this work on Saturday morning. I’d estimate that we’ve done 90% of it so far and have probably spent 4 hours on it. That’s a hell of a good hourly rate for the 'professional' gardeners. I may change career. The only noteworthy incident during our ivy clearance was that behind a section near the guttering Marianna found Basil’s credit card screwed to the wall.

On Saturday when it was raining and we couldn’t work on the ivy we finished gutting the front bathroom, especially dismantling the shower. We’re limited in what we can remove without tackling plumbing or electrics. When that was done we removed the fitted wardrobes in the front bedroom.

I was feeling rather overwhelmed by it all at the weekend. Overwhelmed by work and constantly rushing from one task and place in the country to another, tired of being surrounded by chaos everywhere in the house and deflated that we’re living in a house which doesn’t always feel fit to live in. I have untouched personal and professional 'Things to do' lists and the one for the house is endless. The space between my ears feels as chaotic as the space within these walls. There must be cheaper ways to have a nervous breakdown. Last Wednesday our kitchen lights suddenly stopped working. It seemed to happen as water boiled over from a pan on the hob. I opened the cupboard beneath the stairs to check the fuses and the lights came back on. Could the hinges on the cupboard door be linked to our kitchen lights? In this house it is possible. I discovered that the fuses for everything in the kitchen are separate from the other fuses and are right beneath the hob. But it doesn't seem to be the fuses causing the problem. The lights came and went again on Thursday but died for good on Friday. We can prepare food during the day or have the fridge door open and hope that its light will reach across the room.

We took turns working on the shower

and took turns photographing each other working on the shower

My Parents Visit

My parents visited the weekend before last. It was their first visit to us since we moved to the midlands. They said they’d be leaving their home at 8.30 but I wasn’t surprised to get a text at 7.45 saying that they were then leaving. I wasn’t surprised either later when they said they'd been kicking their heels for some time waiting to leave at 7.45. They brought an old chair for us to increase our sitting options by a third. I lifted it out of my dad's car and put it just inside the front door. It's still there. It seems pointless to put it in front of the tv that only has one channel. As soon as they arrived we went straight into a tour of the house. Since we’ve removed the hand rail on the stairs they ascended on all fours. Much to my surprise they really liked the house. My dad likes to play it safe and if buying a house would opt for a brand new one, not one that needed work in every part of every room but he could see the potential that we’d seen when we’d first viewed it although he did have some concerns about the cost of the entire project. I think because we presented as calm about it he was reassured. We’d booked them into a hotel because of the state of the house so after re-fuelling them with several very strong cups of tea we delivered their car to their hotel and then went for a wander around Leamington. Like a couple of five year olds they were full of questions; What’s the name of the river? Why is it called Royal Leamington Spa? Why is there a statue of Queen Victoria in front of the town hall? We didn’t know the answers to any of these so had to read the little plaques and signs around the town. We found an advert for guided historical tours of the town during the summer evenings. We should sign up. My dad moves a little slower these days and my mum’s poor hearing and memory make for a lot of repetition. She asked Marianna five times if her parents had visited us here yet and she asked me the same thing about my nephew twice. Although as proof that my memory is no better I don’t recall what that question was. We stopped in Jephson park for more strong tea and they resisted Marianna's encouragement to return to the hotel for a nap and then the three of them engaged in their favourite activity and toured the town’s charity shops. If Marianna’s bank card was stolen and the thief used it the bank would wonder why less money was coming out of the account. Having said that I was the only one who bought anything. In the evening we went to The Saxon Mill for a very lovely meal and afterwards took a brief walk towards the ruins of a stately home. Marianna accosted a man carrying a guide book who clearly hadn’t spoken to another human being for many years and looked quite terrified. He informed us that we were looking at Guys Cliffe House. It’s the first house I’ve seen for some time that’s in a worst state than ours.

On the Sunday we went to Kenilworth Castle which was very impressively organised with lots of accessible information and interactive activities to keep a 39 year old occupied. The grounds were very beautiful and the staff extremely helpful in a particularly unEnglish way. Mum and Dad weren’t too interested to read about the history of the buildings and artifacts, claiming they were too old to take on new information and so just larked about but they did listen to the audioguide which we all wore. It's the first time i've visited somewhere like that with my parents when i wasn't wearing my school uniform. We went on from there to the Fleur De Lys at Lowsonford for more lovely food. Satiated, we returned home to provide them with more super strong tea. "Will you be providing any Grandchildren any time soon?" my mother asked, being uncharacterstically forward. I hurried them towards their car and we waved them goodbye as they headed back to the Fens.

Sense of Humour Failure

So, on Saturday July fourth with reports to write and suitcases to pack for visiting the in-laws in Greece we, instead, were outside stripping the vine that was climbing over the front of the house. Perhaps because of the unwritten reports and empty suitcases I was experiencing a sense of humour failure. I’d had two months of being amused by or indifferent to the dilapidated state of the house but finding that the garden was making its way into the house was just the final straw. Anyway, it took quite a while but wasn’t particularly difficult. My heart sank deeper when the state of the brickwork beneath the vine was revealed. Hopefully it needs nothing more than re-pointing. Hidden by the vine there were also air vents. Like handkerchiefs from a clown's pocket a couple of inches of vine outside the vent, when pulled, revealed several feet of vine inside the vent. Once it was all clear the wall was drowned in weed killer.

During the vine clearing Martin and family from next door returned home and asked how we were and how the house was. Marianna warned him that we’d be doing a little building work in the future and asked about their extension and he produced the plans in another labelled, categorised folder. Am I the only one who exists in a state of constant chaos? We were invited in and sat on their patio and chatted. From their garden our house looked awful. Like Cat Deeley, it’s only attractive from a certain, very precise angle. I could see that the second floor electrics come from a wire dangling down the external wall and going into the garage roof. We discussed our meetings with architects and builders and how we wouldn’t be able to have our stairs like Becky’s. At this point Martin revealed that he designed Becky’s corkscrew staircase and Marianna became very excited. “What do you do for a living?” she asked. “Structural engineer” he said. “Wow. Really?” I said, typically, instead of “Eh???”. So, Marianna’s dream of a corkscrew staircase which allows for a huge bedroom on the second floor may be possible. We were a bit coy about Basil’s sexual adventures but they were aware of those and there was some inevitable discussion of those too.

Yesterday I spotted leaves coming out of the dining room ceiling.

Come Vine with Me

On Monday Martin made a surprise re-entry into Architect Idol by emailing a quote. He did apologise for the eighteen day delay and said he was keen to make a start with a survey this week. But, the eighteen days of silence worried me and although his prices compared well with the others he wasn't allowed to Darius Danesh back into the competition. Marianna rang Michael to pump him for more information and then we gave him the job. He came over today with a colleague to measure, sketch and photograph for over two hours. He cheered me up no end by regularly mentioning how expensive the whole project would be and how, because of the re-wiring, decorating, new windows, new central heating etc., the building work would only be 40% of the cost. It also made me aware of how difficult it will be to work from home while the work is going on. While they were here, and regularly asking me questions, I was trying to write a report on a man who wants to kill his ex-wife, their kids and then himself. I was so distracted I could only suggest that he try that in reverse order. Whilst inspecting Michael discovered that behind the units in the dining room the climbing vine, previously outside, has penetrated the mortar, plaster and wallpaper and come inside.

Man Defies Gravity

I did it!! On the way back from the gymn I managed to cycle all the way up that bloody hill. The torrential rain may have inspired me or just made me want to get home quicker but I got to the point where I normally give up and the legs kept on going.

Ebay a bidet? - 25th June 2009

On Sunday morning we made our first visit to the local car boot sale. Well, technically not our first visit. We went there a couple of weeks ago but they’d already called it a day and closed when we arrived at midday. We were several hours earlier this time. I’m certainly not adverse to an early start to the day but I don’t understand why the buying and selling of junk has to begin at 6am. Marianna loves the car booting / charity shopping experience. We have very different approaches to the acquisition of possessions. She likes to. I don’t. In the end all that stuff ends up owning you more than you own it. There are five levels of stuff you don’t want; Ebay (good enough to get some money for), Charity shop donations (still good enough to use), the recycling shop at the council tip (okay, if you’re desperate), your wheely bin (it’s rubbish) and finally Car Boot sales. Having said that Marianna is an expert rummager, bargain hunter and a ruthless negotiator. We bought a very nice but neglected over-mantel for £9 which is only bemusing because we don’t have any mantels for it to hang above. There was also a woodworm infested chest of drawers (£1) because it had nice handles. We’ve stored it in the Wendy house which is probably now full of woodworm and about to collapse.

We went home, unloaded and then loaded things from the front bathroom into the car for the recycling centre. This included the urine-soaked carpet which was now very damp with rain water which had come through the garage roof. This had seriously turned up the volume of the urine smell. The smell filled the car and didn’t leave when all of the windows were opened. Marianna leaned out of the window like a Labrador, desperate for fresher air. We are always amazed at the things people choose to throw away. When Marianna spotted that the people in the parking bay next to us at the recycling centre were unloading a perfectly pleasant chest of drawers her eyes lit up like Madonna’s in a Malawian orphanage. I tried to avoid eye contact as she sought permission to dive into the skip and retrieve what parts of it had already been dumped. As one drawer was thrown deep into the skip and smashed her chance was lost.

And lastly a visit to Homebase. We bought lawn fertiliser to make the lawn a bit less brown and viewed the selection of garden hoses and deliberated over the length of our garden. Marianna figured her strides were a metre long and, like a demented Basil Fawlty, was striding the length of the aisles to estimate the length of our garden. It is possible that measuring it with a tape measure before we left home would have been easier but this proved to be surprisingly accurate when we got home. We also bought a product to clear all of the algae out of the pond. It hasn’t. And finally, since the garden always seems to be full of birds we also bought a bird feeder. However, it has proved to be as popular as Susan Boyle at a swingers party and the garden has been devoid of birds since the thing was hung.

On Monday evening whilst writing a report on a man who killed his neighbour with a hammer I was listening to Chris Evans’ show on Radio2. He said “Tonight’s show is dedicated to anyone who’s carpeted things other than the floor of their home”. I listened as people texted and emailed in with stories of things they’d carpeted such as tool boxes, fridges, vans and wondered if I should contact the show and spread the fame of the carpeted beds and the fluffy bathroom even thought they didn’t quite meet his criteria. I emailed him some photos of the more carpety areas of the house but he didn’t respond. Maybe photographs of my bathroom aren’t what’s required for Sony award winning radio.

On Tuesday evening our fourth architect, Michael, visited. He was a small, rotund, grey, Arthur Lowe lookalike. I spotted him arrive, park opposite and then walk along the road away from us. I’m concerned that it took him so long to realise that all the even numbers were on that side. Was he thinking; “128, 126, 124. Where could 129 be? And 127 and 125 for that matter.” More generously, Marianna thought he might be trying to get a look at our house from a distance. He pointed out that the boiler, which is in the garage, was wrongly fitted and if it weren’t for all of the holes in the garage roof fumes would be killing us. He showed no interest in the pornier aspects of the house but was fascinated by Basil’s DIY re-wiring and plumbing and the sight of a make of bidet very popular in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s (can you Ebay a bidet?). Within a few minutes of arriving he’d made it clear that a first floor extension wasn’t financially viable. “Why didn’t you buy a bigger house if this isn’t enough space for you?” he wondered. Oh. But he did it in a very convincing way and he thought that it was all of the Basilness that made us think we needed to create more space whereas we only needed to clear out and rearrange. We also discussed moving the first floor to second floor stairs. A quick measure and he decided that wasn’t viable since we’d be left with a landing and opening to the front bedroom door that was only a foot square. Tricky to get a human in, impossible to get furniture in. He sold me the notion of doing a smaller project really well instead of something bigger and it bankrupting us and not looking great. So, to summarise, Roland didn’t refer to planning laws and that little of what we wanted was actually achievable, Martin seemed great but after two weeks is yet to send a quote and Garbinder said that all of our housing dreams were possible which is partly true but he didn’t mention that it was financially insane. This must be the end of ‘Architect Idol’ and we need to select someone to actually make some drawings. Michael is top of the pile for me since he actually displayed some imagination. The others only seem to be good at drawing and I knew children at primary school who were described in such terms and that was only because there was nothing else positive to say about them.