As you may be aware (or will be shortly) this country girl has become somewhat frustrated with having coal fired central heating (for gods sake its the 21st Century). Then there's the kitchen that does not allow cat swinging of any sort (even though Cooper's recent misdemeanours certainly justify some mild chastisement.
So country girl, found her architect (he survived my petulence just about) had plans drawn up (new kitchen diner plus new bedroom above). After a temporary blip which caused delay (but which need not concern my dear readers) duly found some suitable builders to make her little housey dreams a lovely reality.
And this is where this little tale begins, when on Monday two builders turned up to make a start and demolish the thing of beauty previously known as my garage. Or if you listen to the neighbours "that bleeping eyesore".
They were pleasant enough (the builders, so are the neighbours!) and I of course, in a bid to ensure good relations, obliged with cups of suitably strong Yorkshire Tea. (#Tea time is me Time etc - don't get me started or Grey will be in trouble again!).
And all seemed well, the garage you see is not what we'd call a work of architectural greatness, constructed mainly from old scrap wood, bits of packing cases and it appears some rather fetching asbestos sheeting (I warned them so my Health & safety duty is discharged). "A good wind should have that down love", was the view of most of the neighbours and indeed the builders who were rather hopeful of a couple of bashes with a hammer and an early dart home (or at least a nice sit down with some more Yorky tea!)
The garage however had other ideas. Frankly I left them to it , (lets face it Diagnosis Murder was due on !) and anyway scruffbag (who adores men in overalls) had to be taken indoors for their safety and so she didn't get even more dangerously over excited.
And then there was a lot of banging, for a long time. A very long time. Eventually a very, very long time. So I popped my head out thinking 'well bound to be done by know lets get em another cup of tea, maybe even some shortbread'.
But there it was , still up, a bit more wonky admittedly, but still there. Oh dear. "Erm" I said. And then it happened, the reply that should have prepared me but for some reason didn't. "Don't you worry princess we've got a plan. It'll be sorted no probs". Having worked with many men, usually engineers over the years the use of the P word should have set off warning bells.
When they use it, it means one of three things 1) that they did something really, really stupid and are about to tell you what 2) that they are planning to do something really, really stupid and you need to identify what and stop it or 3)its to late to stop the stupid thing they did and they are about to tell you they landed the company in Tribunal yet again.
But somehow, I just smiled, and said "Ok, more tea? I'll leave you to it". It was when I heard their orange van driving off that I was a bit concerned they'd legged it and thought I'd sneak a peek from upstairs.
And there they were, in the neighbours drive, with the van, and a rope. And I watched as they tied one end of the rope to the van and the other to my garage. And then as they floored the accelerator (the van protested I thought for one moment they'd done for Cooper) and they headed off down the neighbours drive. I think i whimpered at that point, scruff certainly looked concerned about my wellbeing.
And there we are .. mmm.
I am pretty sure that this isn't the recommended method for garage demolition but in the end it did work and they left me with a delightful pile of garage related rubble (which apparently they needed another van for ! - I know, don't ask I was to bemused to!)
The bits are to be collected. Given that funds are tight I am considering whether I could persuade a London art fan that the guys are indeed Retford's artsy wunderkinds who have in fact created a sure Fire Turner Prize winner worth at least 18 squillion pounds. Over a cheeky Chablis even came up with a suitable working title "the Psychosis of Modern Living III" which I think is a surefire winner myself. So, if anyone knows either of the Saatchi brothers let me know, I may let them barter me down a tad on the price (if they chuck in some Nigella goodies as part of the deal!
Am concerned that the next thing due for demolition is the porch!!! I may need to tie myself to it Emmeline Pankhurst stylee to make sure they adopt proper demolition methods this time!!
(of the photos, you are seeing the premier of my piece ""the Psychosis of Modern Living III" I hope u enjoy its subtle ironies. The orange van is not the actual van but one the same (thought the guys might get annoyed if I started taking pics just yet!)
TTFN
