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 him 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.