With Sparks fast completing rooms and 'signing them over' to Mum and Dad, they can get involved in bringing furniture into the house. Some of it was dismantled for removal in the 'Big Green Lorry' so it needs re-assembling from flat pack as if it was new. We have long since lost the instructions for this but Dad took them apart only as recently as October and kept all the bits of one piece lashed together with brown parcel tape and the nuts, bolts and widgets in a small plastic baggy or tupperware pot with the main bits of wood for that item. Other bits were transported whole or with just the cushions removed. It was stored in the two main outbuildings, the Tígín (wee housey) and the milking shed, both of which have reasonably intact roofs and anyway the stuff was sheeted over with huge plastic sheets. For the most part, it survived this abuse although three months, even under cover in the often-damp Roscommon air some of it has started to mildew up and came out needing a good clean and scrub, a good rub down with teak oil or beeswax, and in the case of the dining table it got its top well sanded down before re-waxing. These restorative processes have kept Mum and Dad amused while Sparks has carpentered away and Dad has only really got involved in house woodwork when following Sparks around with a varnish pot or when helping with any two-man lifts, offering up doors for marking etc. There are also the two pieces that Dad brought up in the 2CV trailer on Sunday which have been living in Silverwood. They are warm and dry at least but Mum still wants to sand them down and recoat with either oil, varnish or wax.
The sofa was a story in itself. Readers may recall the fun we had getting it out of the Faversham house. Not particularly tall or deep, it is very long. Dad can lie full length on it with room to spare and then there's the arms. It must be 7 feet long, way taller stood on end than any doorway. In Faversham there was not the option to walk it in horizontally as the stairs were in the narrow hall just outside the living room door, so its only way in and out was to have the double glazing guys lift out the main glazing panel of the bay window and to lift it in from the drive. Mum was acutely aware of this and worried that it wouldn't come back into this house - fit through the front door and round the corner into living room. When the wall to the right of the stairs went she relaxed a bit but as the stairs went in and then the banister, at each stage she'd growl at the boys "You'd better measure it and make sure", "Are you SURE it'll go?" and "I'm gonna kill you if it doesn't fit!". There is no bay window here as an option. The boys, especially Sparks teased her a bit with "Ah..not a bother! Of COURSE it'll fit" and "Easy" and "No sweat". It had gone into the Tígín easily, hadn't it? Last minute, Mum measure the door of the 'Tig' and found it to be 3 inches wider than the living room door aperture (with no door or door stop yet). "I'm just saying...." she said heavily. Finally the day arrived to heft it in. The boys went to get it OK but on the way round, Sparks said to Dad, "This is the day we could die, you know?". They solemnly shook hands and said "Nice working with You" to each other. In the event the sofa, hefted onto its back slid in without a bother, but the boys were a bit relieved that this was possible, acting more cocky than they had any right to be!
Nice one lads!
Deefs
