Showing posts with label Skype. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skype. Show all posts

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

E minus 6 days

E-Day minus 6 and the big adventure is coming at us like a parachutist's ground-rush. We dogs have already moved, of course and can only see Mum and Dad left behind via the frequent video-Skype / Facebook chats which flow between Diamond's place and the Silverwoods here. Dad is working his way through the final scenes of the play tying up loose ends. He has to pay the Big Green Lorry guys and give them the "any time after" date. It looks like for that we have now run so close to Christmas that BGL is now likely to be after the Season but that suits us as it gives us more time to prepare a landing site for all the stuff.

Dad has been to see the house in Faversham which Diamond's John is renovating in a similar way to what we'll be doing in Roscommon. John is a very particular and painstaking kind of bloke, so his stripping back of brickwork for re-plastering nibbles away every last shard of old plaster leaving a very clean brick face to screed. He winkles out every last bit of old lead gas-pipe and redundant water pipe or electricity cable, pulling up floor boards to gain access and re-laying them properly.

He does all this little by little, clearing away the debris each day, never letting an awesome pile of rubble or old broken wood build up. Radiators are stacked neatly in the cellar and all open pipe ends are sealed off with cloth and tape. It is stripped back so clean, tidy and safe that you could almost lay out a sleeping bag and sleep there. He also takes plenty of photo's so that should his spirits ever flag he can look back at the old shots and buoy himself up by how much he has achieved. John also talks a lot of common sense about what he does himself and when he calls in the trades, and how the budget works as a result.

Dad is inspired by all this and can see his way through how it's going to work at Roscommon. He was going a little wobbly about the destruction phase, worried that we'd end up with one of the houses on D.I.Y. S.O.S. but with no TV crew and purple polo-shirted builders to rescue us. He feels a little bit more confident now, but it's still a mammoth beast. Bizarrely, he is also mildly concerned about what happens after, say 18 months down the line. We will hopefully have a lovely renovated farmhouse in the back of beyond to retreat to and hang out in after..... after what? Allotmenting? Work? A full and exhausting day involved in local projects and society? Volunteering?

Meanwhile, 2CV Llew is cutting it a bit fine (no surprise there!) building the promised 2CV trailer. Dad was down there yesterday to get the car wired for trailer-pulling and has seen the trailer such as it is so far - a wheel-less steel frame of angle iron and box-section about 6 feet long, 4 feet wide and 2 feet tall. No wooden panels, wheels, paint, light-bar, tow-hitch, cover or any other finishing touches. Llew is confident that it will be ready for Sunday morning. Mum is shaking her head and the look on her face says "why does this not surprise me. It's Llew after all!" We all love Llew to bits but he is a bit of a one for flexing deadlines.

His standard MO is to take a car off you to work on it while you go for a fortnight's holiday and then, when you get back indoors and phone him to see how it's all gone, he'll say "Ah yes, I must get started on that, mustn't I?" So he had the 2CV for all the three and a half weeks Dad was in Ireland, and did the wiring yesterday, almost a week after he got back. Still, the trailer, although it would be very useful in Ireland and has been paid for, does only contain the most non-vital stuff for our move (deliberately - we knew it was the least likely bit to get there!) so if it all goes Pete Tong and we have to leave it behind for another day, it's no great disaster. One thing it might prove to be useful for is if the famous BGL cannot be threaded out of the lane and up the drive of the Roscommon house, it can be parked a few yards down the lane in a lay-by and the 2CV and trailer used to shuttle stuff up to the house.

Exciting times
Deefs

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Hassle-Free flying

Despite the news being full of the strikes by Immigration-clearing workers at Heathrow and the threat of disruption spreading to other UK airports, Dad heads off back to the UK for his final burst of 11 days of Faversham tying up the last loose ends before bringing Mum back to re-unite the family at last for the real start of Project Erroll. The flight is not till 12:50 so there is time to do breakfast as normal and to school run what children there still are going to school, not wiped out by the cold bug. Em-J and little R are both off school today and Dad has now developed a ticklish cough so is sure he's coming down with it - he's only surprised to have survived so long without succumbing.

So, Mr Silverwood drives Dad to the airport via buying a part for Steak Lady's shower, check in is problem free and the flight boards and loads on time. Dad is under instructions to text John at the UK end as he boards, as John will then leave home and take about the same time to drive as it does to fly Dublin to LGW, which saves anyone wasting time hanging around airports. As John rolls up at arrivals, Dad is coming through from baggage reclaim.

The boys drive home to Diamond's via the old house where there might have been some post to collect (including Mum's tax disc... oops) but nobody's home. Diamond welcomes everyone in - she has made up a spare room bed for Dad. In theory Dad was going to be sleeping on the barge, Cambria but now has this cold and it told that the barge has no heating yet and only dodgy mains power, so she is very cold and damp at present and not necessarily that conducive a place to sleep for a cold-ridden blogger. Also, Daimond is cooking haggis (small 'h'), neeps and tatties (and peas and carrots) for St Andrew's Day, Mum will be home from work and wine may well be opened. Thank you Diamond for the hospitality, comfy bed and the attention of the ravishingly handsome Ragworth (grrrrrrrr!)

Deefs