No, not another Beatles song title for a post title!? Yes, I fear so. Still, it is a pertinent title, so I'm keeping it. If I write a post called "Glass Onion" then I give you, my reader, whoever you are, the permission to exclaim something of your own choice very loudly.
Following work last night, I drove back to the house. I had time to get changed and then the heating engineer was due. We've already booked a date for the heating works, but it was pencilled in pending an on-site inspection and review of exactly what would be done and where it would be done. The guy was due at 6.30. So, at about that time, I was dressed in working clothes and ready for him. Rather than start a DIY job, I migrated my data to my new computer and installed some software on it. This proved relatively painless. A call from the engineer told me he was running late, so I did some more of the computer preparation.
Eventually, the guy arrived and we spent a good hour working out how the installation would be done. It requires me to contract my roofer to seal around the flue, and it also requires me to rip out the bathroom. I was going to do that anyway, but I now need it to be done a lot sooner. This is not the end of the world. It is, however, a non-trivial task. Specifically, I need to rip out the bath and make the area behind it, which we're keeping as a void, accessible. The bath is cast iron. The void is currently covered with the remains of a wood and plaster wall. Fun is to be had.
After the engineer had left, I drove around the corner to where a meal was waiting for me. I had the possibility of some help, but this help had decided that the best way to help me was not to join me back at the house in the tile-ripping-off, but, instead, stay at home ironing MY shirts. That's a pretty good deal.
I returned to the house, put on a breathing mask and started hacking tiles and plaster off. I'd removed my glasses to avoid them getting dusty and steamed up from the beathing mask. Ideally, I should have worn a pair of goggles, but I was generally working at arm's length, so it probably didn't matter. It didn't.
I hacked and scraped and the bath, a cast iron affair, a bath that I will curse when I have to take it out of the room and down the stairs, made an excellent job of catching most of the rubble falling from the wall. This has been its own job in the house since I bought it. This bath will never see hot water, heated and paid for by me. That's quite sad, really. Then, so is living in a house with increasingly fewer home-comforts. It's amazing how normal that now seems.
It got to a point where I could see dust blowing off my mask when I exhaled. I was tackling a larger area of wall than I had the previous night, and even the small bit of wall on the previous night had been enough to make me wheeze with the acrid dust that came out of the plaster. The face mask was clearly doing a cracking job, because I didn't lose the power to breathe, avoid choking, or live.
At some point, my frenzy of wrecking the walls came to an end as the bath was largely full of rubble and I reckoned it was too late to be making hacky-hacky-tap-tap noises in my bathroom. The bathroom is fairly isolated, being located between two internal walls and an external wall (rather than any party walls), but enough was enough. I set to bagging the spoils of my efforts. I filled five rubble sacks and the bath was still fairly full of rubble. I need some sort of shovel. My 67p dustpan, usually coopted into such situations as a shovel, was sadly broken by a falling tile. I'll buy another, then.
Dusty in a way I seldom get, I returned to the house around the corner for a shower and a viewing of Desperate Housewives, which is, basically, smashing. I know. I shouldn't watch it, but it's very good. Plus, when I get my Freeview box working, I'll be able to watch it at home. I still haven't gotten the Freeview hooked up. I need to erect a plinth for the TV to stand on, so the Freeview box won't be crushed by it. Low priority!
I returned home for some sleep.
Tonight and tomorrow night I have gigs. Tonight's is in Grantham, so I will be back late. Tomorrow's is local, so there may be a chance to do some bath clearage before I get some slumber. The weekend is going to be crucial, though. The bathroom needs clearing and I need to consider how much other stuff I want to be done before radiators come back into rooms and obscure sections of wall.
Following work last night, I drove back to the house. I had time to get changed and then the heating engineer was due. We've already booked a date for the heating works, but it was pencilled in pending an on-site inspection and review of exactly what would be done and where it would be done. The guy was due at 6.30. So, at about that time, I was dressed in working clothes and ready for him. Rather than start a DIY job, I migrated my data to my new computer and installed some software on it. This proved relatively painless. A call from the engineer told me he was running late, so I did some more of the computer preparation.
Eventually, the guy arrived and we spent a good hour working out how the installation would be done. It requires me to contract my roofer to seal around the flue, and it also requires me to rip out the bathroom. I was going to do that anyway, but I now need it to be done a lot sooner. This is not the end of the world. It is, however, a non-trivial task. Specifically, I need to rip out the bath and make the area behind it, which we're keeping as a void, accessible. The bath is cast iron. The void is currently covered with the remains of a wood and plaster wall. Fun is to be had.
After the engineer had left, I drove around the corner to where a meal was waiting for me. I had the possibility of some help, but this help had decided that the best way to help me was not to join me back at the house in the tile-ripping-off, but, instead, stay at home ironing MY shirts. That's a pretty good deal.
I returned to the house, put on a breathing mask and started hacking tiles and plaster off. I'd removed my glasses to avoid them getting dusty and steamed up from the beathing mask. Ideally, I should have worn a pair of goggles, but I was generally working at arm's length, so it probably didn't matter. It didn't.
I hacked and scraped and the bath, a cast iron affair, a bath that I will curse when I have to take it out of the room and down the stairs, made an excellent job of catching most of the rubble falling from the wall. This has been its own job in the house since I bought it. This bath will never see hot water, heated and paid for by me. That's quite sad, really. Then, so is living in a house with increasingly fewer home-comforts. It's amazing how normal that now seems.
It got to a point where I could see dust blowing off my mask when I exhaled. I was tackling a larger area of wall than I had the previous night, and even the small bit of wall on the previous night had been enough to make me wheeze with the acrid dust that came out of the plaster. The face mask was clearly doing a cracking job, because I didn't lose the power to breathe, avoid choking, or live.
At some point, my frenzy of wrecking the walls came to an end as the bath was largely full of rubble and I reckoned it was too late to be making hacky-hacky-tap-tap noises in my bathroom. The bathroom is fairly isolated, being located between two internal walls and an external wall (rather than any party walls), but enough was enough. I set to bagging the spoils of my efforts. I filled five rubble sacks and the bath was still fairly full of rubble. I need some sort of shovel. My 67p dustpan, usually coopted into such situations as a shovel, was sadly broken by a falling tile. I'll buy another, then.
Dusty in a way I seldom get, I returned to the house around the corner for a shower and a viewing of Desperate Housewives, which is, basically, smashing. I know. I shouldn't watch it, but it's very good. Plus, when I get my Freeview box working, I'll be able to watch it at home. I still haven't gotten the Freeview hooked up. I need to erect a plinth for the TV to stand on, so the Freeview box won't be crushed by it. Low priority!
I returned home for some sleep.
Tonight and tomorrow night I have gigs. Tonight's is in Grantham, so I will be back late. Tomorrow's is local, so there may be a chance to do some bath clearage before I get some slumber. The weekend is going to be crucial, though. The bathroom needs clearing and I need to consider how much other stuff I want to be done before radiators come back into rooms and obscure sections of wall.
Labels: DIY
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