The House Husband

with occasional entries by The Dean

Bricks galore

Driven on by my success with the gong, today I pulled up the surplus bricks alongside the wonder path. It was more of an effort than it would normally be but I persevered and now have a lovely pile of bricks down the side of the house.

Of course, the removal left a long trench, devoid of dirt, at the edge of the path so I transferred a load of compost and dirt and filled it up. My wrist was a bit ache-y but I’m convinced it only did me good. Tomorrow I’m going to attempt a bit of weeding.

The weather has been quite grey so my bird photography was a bit off while walking up the park. I did get a crow coming in to land but the ones of it flying were all pretty blurred. Tomorrow I’m going to walk up to one of the ponds and see what I can find up there.

A perfect landing

I’m not sure why the sound file was not working properly yesterday. I tested it here and it works fine. I think it might be a buffer problem.

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The rakes progress

The Crazies are getting an extension. They had submitted plans a number of times and they’ve been turned down through no objection of our’s. Eventually, though, they must have changed something for the good because the latest plans were approved, dependent on a site visit by some guy from The Planning Inspectorate.

Due to the fact that he may want to view their house from our back garden, it was requested that I make myself available. No problem for me. I put the date on the calendar and, almost a month ago and on the appropriate day, I made sure I was here.

That day I received another missive from the Planning Inspectorate saying that the inspection had been cancelled because the inspector had taken ill (“…at short notice…“, the letter said…I would have thought taking ill was always completed at short notice…still, this is a government department and I know how they like things to be planned ahead for).

The letter went on to say that the writer (Alison) had tried to contact the Crazies but without success even though they’d called twice, left two messages and sent an email marked URGENT. They also tried to contact us by phone but the number they were given by the council was, in fact, the one belonging to the Crazies and so, I guess, they really rang them thrice.

It was a long, rambling letter which, basically, told me there was no later date because no-one could agree on one. Like a good, helpful person, I emailed Alison and gave her our number and email address. She emailed me when a new date had been proposed. That day was today. And so, I made sure I was home betwixt 1pm & 2pm in case access to our back garden was required.

After shopping, talking to mum and dad, walking the dogs and having lunch, I decided to bite the bullet and venture into the garden armed with rake, barrow and gloves. Today was to be a bit of a turning point. I was going to test my wrist out on some good, honest, labour.

Because my break and autumn occurred pretty much at the same time, the lawn has been a deepening bed of leaves to the point where the grass is barely visible. This is a shame on a few levels but it mainly irks because we have the path which should save the grass from winter destruction.

Speaking of the path, it’s not all good. I was a bit saddened that the big winds of last night managed to knock over one of the obelisks, the top smashing on the bricks of the path. Had the path not been there, it would have more than likely just been submerged in mud. It’s not fatal, however, and I shall fix it when I am capable of holding a nail.

But today was all about the leaf litter. So, armed with gloves, rake and barrow, I attacked the leaves, filling the leaf trap as I went.

How handy is our path!

It was while I was struggling with my task that the dogs alerted me to someone at the front door – they always get in before the doorbell is chimed which is quite handy if I’m up the back. I went to the door and met Mr JL Gray MSC DIPARC REGARC (that’s Diploma of Architecture and, I assume, Registered Architect though I think they each have an ‘H’ at the end), an inspector with a deliciously Scottish accent and an expensive looking winter coat that many people would surely covet.

He had been next door and now just wanted to have a look from our side so I invited him in and showed the back door. Being a man who owns a dog, he was very nice to the poodles who clearly detected the scent of his 15 year old Labrador upon his person.

He was born and raised in Aberdeen and is now a Sunderland supporter. How this happened is anyone’s guess but once again it is proved that most men can talk to each other about football if nothing else. We talked about the game on Saturday while he wandered up and down our luxurious path, about which he was most complimentary.

He wasn’t here long but long enough to ascertain the impact their extension would have. They already have a single storey extension and wish to add to it. It is Mr JL Gray’s job to make sure it doesn’t look too foreboding and intrusive. Of course it’s all hypothetical because he has to imagine it. This made me laugh. I asked him if that was all he did; imagine what extensions would look like in the future. It occurred to me that such a job would suit Mirinda. He assured me it was not.

Anyway, he was soon gone and I returned to the leaf matter at hand, working away until my hand started to ache unbearably, at which point I decided I should stop. I hadn’t quite finished but the leaf trap was full and the garden looks heaps better.

Before all of this, there was quite a lot of bird action on the feeder and I managed to get a few shots of the aggressive looking green finches.

Bah, humbug!

All in all, a pleasant and rewarding day with a touch of the surreal. I’m having a Nicktor Night tonight so the evening promises to be pleasurable as well.

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Path & plumbing

It’s been a cold and dusty day at the house. Cold because the plumbers have been installing the new boiler which means there’s been no heating and dusty because the brick saw has been gradually getting closer to the back door. I’ve been sequestered upstairs, shivering.

Before the plumbers (for there were two) arrived this morning, it suddenly occurred to me that I should take a before and after photo of the boiler. Here’s the before:

Old boiler

And here’s the after:

New boiler

It’s a lovely new Italian boiler and took over 10 hours to install! The plumber left just before 7pm. Which meant I didn’t miss The Archers. It also meant being up all night scrubbing muddy footprints off the floors.

I did manage to escape the building site for a bit this morning when I went into town to pick up Mirinda’s new glasses. Otherwise, it’s just been me, the mess and the cold.

Sadly, the path wasn’t finished today. Dave has left a row of bricks that still need cutting (the approaching gloom defeated him once more) on Monday morning. He also needs to sweep the sand into the joints. Still, they worked very long and hard today as you can see.

Day 5

So the poodles will have fun dodging the gaps when they return on Sunday!

I just had include this that I spotted on Twitter. It’s what news anchors do when they’re not on air.

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Back at last

I was greeted with real enthusiasm at the Talking Newspaper today. It was my first time back since breaking my wrist. Of course, everyone I saw was very sympathetic, ‘oohing’ and ‘arghing’ at the right places as I told the story of my stupidity…which improves with each subsequent retelling. For a while I was telling people I did it snow boarding but ran into a problem when asked where. I have now changed it to sky diving. Much safer.

Anyway, we had a jolly time reading the Farnham edition. My headline was particularly jolly being about a guy who faked his own death and was caught when he used his HMV staff discount card. This led to the police examining his death certificate and finding his fingerprints on it. Talk about an idiot.

While I was away, Dave and his mate worked steadily through the morning – I took delivery of the bricks before they arrived – and finished the borders either side of the path. When I returned, they’d laid quite a few bricks and it’s really starting to look like a real path.

Day 4

I took these after they’d gone and it was quite dark. For this second shot I used the flash. I should explain that the bricks in the centre look lighter because of brick dust and not because they’re different!

Day 4 with flash

I’ll get a better shot tomorrow morning when the sun is actually around!

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The path continues

It made more sense to take yesterday’s photo when the sun was up so I took it again this morning.

End of day 2

The sun actually put in an appearance at lunchtime so I snapped this:

Day 3

The bricks on the right (up to the brick sized gap) have been mortared while the ones on the left are in readiness.

I saw the electrician who will be sending us a quote on work but, for joy, he said the wiring is fine and won’t need replacing for at least 20 years! He reckons it was replaced about 12 years ago. It makes such a change from finding millions of faults throughout the house.

After Dave and his mate had finished for the day, I went into town to have a lovely Lotus dinner with Mirinda. I do love our dinner dates though it does make for a very late night!

On the way back to the Tube at Canary Wharf, I noticed the lights of the newest Greenpeace ship, the Rainbow Warrior III. Since we’ve been invited to tour it on Saturday, I thought I’d have a sneak peek.

Rainbow Warrior III

Hopefully I’ll get some better photos on Saturday but it looked magnificent ablaze with lights.

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The growing path

Mirinda wanted to see the trench from the house so I’ve included this photo I took yesterday. It’s not from the patio because you don’t really see anything beyond the shrub circle.

Path from the house

It was a grey, dull and awfully grim day but Dave and his mate battled on. They arrived at 8ish and set the cement mixer going. I left them to it and went shopping.

I returned to find them hard at it so I rang mum and dad and had a lovely long chat which culminated in a successful repair to their browser toolbar.

But back to the path…Through the day the guys laid a membrane along the trench then a concrete ledge down both sides. This is for the side bricks to sit on. Then, once this had started to dry off, they filled the rest of the trench with hard core. Late in the day, they finished by flattening the hard core with a vibrating plate.

It’s really starting to look like a path now. I assume the bricks start tomorrow.

I took a few photos after they’d finished today but it’s quite dark and starting to rain so the images are a bit dim. Here’s the best one anyway.

End of day 2

In other house improvement developments…I have an electrician coming tomorrow to quote on some work and the new boiler will be fitted on Friday. I was also told today that we have two viewings on Saturday now. It’s all go around here this week.

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Out damn mud

Today Dave and his mate have arrived to put a path down in the back garden. The timing is perfect as I have a relatively free week. Also the quagmire has started to appear. Mirinda pointed out the not so red leaves of the acer, covered as they are in the mud thrown up by the poodles paws every time they go racing up the back on squirrel patrol.

I have set my good camera up in the spare room and will endeavour to take a photograph every half hour. Eventually I will put them all together in a sort of sped up garden path construction video. Fingers crossed it will work. In the meantime…here’s a taster.

The beginning of the new path

I was only given a few days warning they were coming this morning so I had to quickly book the dogs into the kennel. Fortunately there was room for them and I took them up this morning for an unexpected holiday. Of course it means I’ll be without them all week. Though, with the possibility of another viewing next Saturday, keeping the house tidy will be a lot easier!

But back to the path…Dave (the guy in charge) is a real whiz on the mini-digger. Watching him getting it down the side of the house and round the back was amazing. He’s a skilful driver.

It makes very easy work of digging the trench. Mind you, the guy working for him still has to haul the barrows of earth away. A very funny moment when he trod on one of Day-z’s squeaky toys and nearly jumped a mile. Oh, how we laughed.

By the end of play, they’d dug out the entire path trench, leaving it like this:

End of day 1

It’s already starting to look better.

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Waiting for the grass to dry

I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time in the garden this week. What with cricket, football and rotten weather, the grass, especially, has gone a bit mad. The plan (as of Thursday anyway) was that I’d mow on Sunday morning. That way it would have all of Saturday to dry off. Of course, I was keeping my fingers and toes crossed with great expectations that it wouldn’t rain.

When our social plans were altered for today by the advent of Mirinda’s lurgy, I decided to put it off for a few hours, giving it longer to dry properly. The problem is that when I mow the grass when it’s wet, it doesn’t collect in the catcher very well but, rather, chucks great chunks all over the garden which means I have to rake. Because raking is a right pain in the butt, I never want to rake. So, logically, I wait for it to be dry.

Actually, on the way into Farnham for the second time today, I spotted a guy mowing his lawn IN the rain. Nothing odd in that, you’d think. How is that a problem? The only problem, as far as I could see, was the fact that he was using an electric mower. Call me stupid but that doesn’t seem to be very smart. Or is it waterproof electricity that’s used in electric mowers? I don’t know. Mine runs on petrol.

It may be an indication of how sad some people are but I have found a forum where the members argue vociferously about whether to mow in the rain or not. Seriously. It seems the problem is that big mowing companies can’t afford to turn down business so they mow whatever the conditions, regardless of whether it works or not. This I can understand however, why would anyone actually pay someone to mow a lawn improperly?

Here’s a short quote from the forum. I thought it worth including as I don’t really understand much of it.

When the grass is wet I have a problem with grass clippings getting stuck under the deck, I use Raptor mulching blades with a scag 36″ w/b ….. I here the blades hitting the stuck clippings.. I try avoiding cutting when wet. Never when it’s raining…..

However, something that concerns me more than grass clippings under the deck is how stupid does someone have to be to mow in the rain with an electric mower? And it wasn’t spitting, either. The rain was seriously coming down. I was drenched so I can vouch for it.

That was the problem, actually. It rained a couple of times on and off through the day, separated by teasing blue skies and sunshine. Of course, all gardeners will know what this means: the grass never actually gets dry. And so, consequently, I didn’t mow. At present, I’m looking at Plan C – mow tomorrow.

The Borough, Farnham, rain threatening

Mirinda has spent the day in bed. Well, most of it. And she’s feeling much better. We’re hoping she’ll be able to spend some time outside tomorrow.

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This Saturday feels like a weekday

Mirinda is very ill at the moment. So ill, she hasn’t come home from the flat. Believe me when I say, THAT is pretty ill. We thought she’d be home this afternoon but she has slipped back downhill and will probably stay in bed. Meanwhile I am holding the fort. Well, if you can describe a dolls house with two miniature poodles a fort.

First thing this morning saw the replanting of the sink into the bathroom top. It was a bit of a struggle (the access for the pipe is somewhat limited and my hand somewhat too big) and I had to have two goes at it (the first time I cross threaded it and when I turned the tap on, drenched everything) but it was eventually complete.

Given I’m such a lousy plumber I tend to be very careful and somewhat over-zealous but I always recall the advice Cowboy gave me all those years ago. I therefore remembered to use plumber’s tape to seal the thread, something the person who originally built the bathroom seems to have ignored. In fact, the thread was covered in silicone sealant instead! This would explain why it was so difficult to get off in the first place.

Sadly I didn’t take a ‘before’ photo of the top. it was looking a bit sad. The varnish had chipped off all over the place and the wood was all but bare. Anyway, here’s how it looks now.

Bathroom top after a bit of renovation

After struggling with the sink, I set to cleaning the bathroom, finding bits of wood dust everywhere. I’m happy to report that it now looks like a new bathroom. Well, the top anyway. Mirinda helpfully suggested I should now paint the entire room. To be fair, it wouldn’t hurt.

After lunch and walk up the park which saw two FSIs (one each) and a consequential bath, I decided to spend some time in the garden in preparation for a visit from Ben, Monali, Imogen and Saffron. This was planned for tomorrow. A day in the country, pub, walk, cricket and swings (the latter for Imogen). Everyone was looking forward to it. Sadly, due to emergency quarantine restrictions, we had to cancel.

As reported earlier, I’m delighted with the progress of my hand sown borage. It continues to thrive. I think the pixies must be looking after the plants. I’m pretty sure they use the flowers for hats and the leaves in their tea so it’s seriously in their own interests for them to grow well and fruitful.

I can now report that the first flower has emerged! It looks a bit lonely but, given the amount of buds on the other plants, I reckon there’ll be a more solid covering of blooms soon.

Our first borage flower

Speaking of dogs…which I wasn’t really but figured it was as good a change of subject as any…Carmen spent most of my garden time near me, chewing on a ham bone – between the occasional growl at her sister if she came within twenty yards of her.

The bone is all that remains of two ginormous ham bones I gave them Friday morning. They were bigger than their heads and I’m amazed Day-z could pick hers up. Carmen, of course, started eating hers in her bed so had no need for carrying. Day-z, however, took hers out of my hand and stressed her neck muscles getting it outside.

Before returning home last night, I suggested to Mirinda that Day-z would have eventually claimed them both. After the usual leaping and licking at my arrival home, Day-z quickly disappeared around the side of the house. I followed her and, sure enough, there were both the bones. I like to think that hopefully Carmen managed to eat a bit of one of them before it was stolen.

A little later, after posting last night’s blog post, I started to go downstairs. Sometimes the dogs go mad and start jumping up and down at me, threatening to push me down the stairs. This is their way of saying they want a wrestle. I sat on the top step and complied.

Wrestling usually means playing with them with one hand each while they bounce back and forth. Carmen, however, had a cunning plan. After distracting both Day-z and me, she dashed downstairs without a backward glance. I just played with Day-z for a bit and then continued going downstairs. Just outside the back door, under the herb table, arse in the air, was Carmen, chewing eagerly on the retrieved bone.

Day-z did not look amused when she realised what had happened and how easily she’d been tricked. She approached but quickly backed off when the growls started. I showed Day-z the other bone but, of course, she wanted the one her sister had.

And now, there is only one left. I have no idea what they have done with the other. I’ve searched but can’t find it. The one Carmen was chewing is all but gone, covered with flies when she leaves it for a second. I’m sure the mower will find the other one eventually.

Small bloom on the fuchsia we thought was dead

As it turned out, Mirinda came home at about 8:30. She was feeling slightly better. I read her a couple of peculiar fairy stories and she slipped off to sleep.

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ASBO chickens

There were flash floods in Dorset today and our garden was drenched. A lot of rain fell in the south east of England. It has been so cold that Mirinda had the central heating on as she beavered away on work stuff. I just sweltered.

Actually, when I went shopping first thing, I was dampened pretty thoroughly. At the checkout, when asked if I wanted a bag, I had to say yes, explaining it was to go on top of my shopping after I’d packed my own shopping bag. Great way to cut down on plastic use, saving the planet in the process. Or not.

At home we both listened to Radio 4, although in different rooms and on different radios. One piece I only heard the end of concerned the daughter of Thomas Carlyle, writer and satirist. The woman who now looks after his house for the National Trust told the following story.

Apparently, when he lived in Chelsea (from 1834), Thomas Carlyle lived next door to a family who had chickens. While the Carlyle house was pretty quiet in the 19th century as opposed to now, next door’s chickens caused him a lot of grief. When he sat down to write, his peace and tranquillity would be invaded by the anti-social squawking, pecking and crowing of the birds.

This unsatisfactory situation would mean Mrs Carlyle (Jane) would have to march around to the neighbours and tell them, in no uncertain terms, to please make their chickens be quiet because her husband (important man that he was) couldn’t concentrate on his writing. (Actually, she was pretty important as well, becoming one of the most important ‘people of letters’ of the 19th century.)

Now, I have no problem with people complaining about noise, particularly if it’s disturbing someone’s work but I really want to know how you shut a chicken up. A dog, a baby, aggressive parents screeching at their kids, even a parrot but chickens? It’s not like you can reason with them or lock them in the dark. The only way I know is cut their heads off and even then, it doesn’t work immediately and makes a bit of a mess. It also means the end of egg production.

Moving on a few years…a maid ‘accidentally’ burned the original first volume of Carlyle’s History of the French Revolution, which he re-wrote completely after finishing volumes two and three. I think it’s just possible that the maid had something to do with the neighbours and their chickens. Revenge is best served cold.

Says everything about our garden today

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But the rain faded into a barely perceived background after Fiona texted to say that Claire had her first drink of water, her first swallow of anything, since October 26 last year. Great cheers went up and Mirinda immediately called her dad. There were no leaks so it looks like she is well on the road to recovery. We are all very happy.

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