It was December the 8th.
The builders came with all their equipment.
We moved the TV upstairs and covered it with a duvet.
Heck, my life would be hell,if the TV got broken.
The sofa and chair were relegated to the garage.
A lorry brought a skip down the back alley.
This was our cue to collect our bag and some provisions......and Pasha in her cage, to head off for Toad Hall in Foulridge.
This was the start of three weeks of upheaval.
I thought the cottage was lovely.....but the grinch took every opportunity to find fault and grumble.
I felt quite dis chuffed as I had gone to quite a bit of trouble to find somewhere that wasn't booked up.......and believe me a lot of places were.....booked up.
Which is why we ended up at Foulridge.
He couldn't mank the lock on the door(I told him to give it a squirt of WD40).
He didn't like the very small freezer.
He thought the spiral staircase was an imbuggerance......I thought it gave the place character.
There was no Sky TV.......and no,Internet signal which would let him watch Sky on the iPad.
When the weather was wet(which was most of the time) the free view picture kept pixelating......so there were lots of expletives flying round.
Me? I couldn't have cared less about the TV.
I had lots of good books to read.
Anyway we settled into a sort of routine......though we did have words on a few occasions.
I told him that this process was like labour......a lot of hard work, some pain and a lot of thrutching, but the end result is always worth the effort.
The work in the house was dirty, smelly and I did not envy the guys the work they were doing.
The dry rot was far worse than we had thought.......all the floors had to be ripped out and all the joists too. It was not a pretty sight.
In fact it was very upsetting.
Where our house is built it is poorly drained clay......and there were pools of water under the floorboards......and this was where the problem had arisen.
Himself would not go and see what was going on. He found it too much to deal with.
Our builder outlined what was to be done......and I just told him to do what he would do,if it were his home.
Foulridge was to be our home for two weeks.....we hoped that by then we would be able to go back home.
Pasha settled into her temporary home really well.
Making herself comfortable on the radiator.....roasting her belly.
What I should have told you was that the week we moved we were both full of a cold....bad chests temperatures, the shakes an the shivers......so I suppose him being cranky could be put down to the fact that he felt a bit rough.
We also still had to come over to Accrington each day......and hang about at Ma's or daughters until the children were brought home from school.
We both wanted to hibernate and wake up when the work was done and dusted.
To be continued.
The builders came with all their equipment.
We moved the TV upstairs and covered it with a duvet.
Heck, my life would be hell,if the TV got broken.
The sofa and chair were relegated to the garage.
A lorry brought a skip down the back alley.
This was our cue to collect our bag and some provisions......and Pasha in her cage, to head off for Toad Hall in Foulridge.
This was the start of three weeks of upheaval.
I thought the cottage was lovely.....but the grinch took every opportunity to find fault and grumble.
I felt quite dis chuffed as I had gone to quite a bit of trouble to find somewhere that wasn't booked up.......and believe me a lot of places were.....booked up.
Which is why we ended up at Foulridge.
He couldn't mank the lock on the door(I told him to give it a squirt of WD40).
He didn't like the very small freezer.
He thought the spiral staircase was an imbuggerance......I thought it gave the place character.
There was no Sky TV.......and no,Internet signal which would let him watch Sky on the iPad.
When the weather was wet(which was most of the time) the free view picture kept pixelating......so there were lots of expletives flying round.
Me? I couldn't have cared less about the TV.
I had lots of good books to read.
Anyway we settled into a sort of routine......though we did have words on a few occasions.
I told him that this process was like labour......a lot of hard work, some pain and a lot of thrutching, but the end result is always worth the effort.
The work in the house was dirty, smelly and I did not envy the guys the work they were doing.
The dry rot was far worse than we had thought.......all the floors had to be ripped out and all the joists too. It was not a pretty sight.
In fact it was very upsetting.
Where our house is built it is poorly drained clay......and there were pools of water under the floorboards......and this was where the problem had arisen.
Himself would not go and see what was going on. He found it too much to deal with.
Our builder outlined what was to be done......and I just told him to do what he would do,if it were his home.
Foulridge was to be our home for two weeks.....we hoped that by then we would be able to go back home.
Pasha settled into her temporary home really well.
Making herself comfortable on the radiator.....roasting her belly.
What I should have told you was that the week we moved we were both full of a cold....bad chests temperatures, the shakes an the shivers......so I suppose him being cranky could be put down to the fact that he felt a bit rough.
We also still had to come over to Accrington each day......and hang about at Ma's or daughters until the children were brought home from school.
We both wanted to hibernate and wake up when the work was done and dusted.
To be continued.
