Sorry in advance but I’d better blog our extension. Maybe in the future it will serve to remind me how straightforward a building job can be. Or maybe it will provide me with a clear reason never to have another extension. Who knows. It’s hardly going to be the subject of a novel.
Week one has passed. They came, they knocked some walls down and they dug a big trench. A concrete lorry came and delivered the concrete. He managed to break at least four paving slabs on the pavement so I’ve no idea what we do about that. That was during his perpendicular to the roadside parking episode which must have inconvenienced most of our neighbours for about three hours. I went out. On foot as I couldn’t get my car round the concrete lorry.
I want it on record that I currently think our builders are lovely. Barry is growing a moustache for Movember so he must be alright. His young helper (who I still haven’t been introduced to) is very smiley. They are tidy and chatty. Mark isn’t on the job regularly yet. He’s lovely too. Phoebe calls him the one with the big face. I won’t tell him that.
Today we have a big skip on the drive and have had bricks delivered by crane. It’s a shame these things keep happening while the kids are out, but I don’t think the head would approve of me keep Tilly off for the day so she can watch men bricklaying. Plus I imagine they’d want to help.
Other than that? Oh the bank still haven’t given us the money and claims the forms haven’t arrived. So we’re submitting again, this time by fax. I can’t shout at them yet because they haven’t given us the money and since the work has started I didn’t ought to make them think twice about the loan. Once it hits our account though all hell is about the break loose. I’m in one of those moods.
And finally to everyone I know who has had an extension that was a nightmare, or knows someone who has had an extension that was a nightmare…I’m not listening 😉