Scrap Metal

A few more pictures from the early days of the project. First up a shot of Dad and the famous pre-electric washing machine with the wringer mangle attached at the back. In fact when we went to dispose of this we found a load of what was presumably washing from 15 years ago including the ol' man's shirts, still dry and perfectly preserved, waiting for the wash. Next a general view of the scrap and the car. 3rd one of the H man who had been helping to clear out the outbuilding known as "The Office" - it was where the farm had stored a load of farm-office type stuff. The other two out buildings are known as "The original house" - (it's obviously a cottage with a front and back door, one room and a fire place and chimney at one end) and the "Milking Parlour", self explanatory. Finally a shot of the bonfire heap with we two dogs in attendance.

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Living in Roscommon

We are now living, at least part of the time, at the Roscommon house, planning to retreat every now and then to the Silverwoods with bags of dirty washing (and grungy bods)like teenagers coming home to Mum at the end of term. This just while there is no power or water on site. So we work through that first evening and then through Sunday and the morning of Monday getting started on the proper project, which should see us all entertained for the next three to six months.

First job is removing the plasterboard sheeting from the east end of the house in the big upstairs bedroom. This is our last chimney and we are looking to reveal a fire place which we can then rod out, clear of jackdaw nests and leave open as we have for the other three. An early punch through the boarding reveals a load of what looks like damp peat behind the plasterboard, so we think we have scored a direct hit first time. But this is not to be. The peat proves to be only a few inches deep, behind which is stone and cement. We start to open up going right and left, and digging out the peat but if there is a fireplace here then its a blocked up one. We can see where the chimney breast goes up, with its shoulders but if there was ever a hole, then it's now stone with a cement screed over. The stud wall goes straight across the room 'ignoring' the shape, so it's half an inch from the screed in some places,9 inches away, braced on horizontal struts in others.

This work goes on punctuated by coffee and smoke breaks, broken by meals wrangled on the hot range, and beginning an ending pretty much with the daylight. We get up at 08:30 as it's getting light, light fires and start breakfast, and by 16:30 ish we are running out of light. We can carry on a bit with artificial light but we have no mains voltage yet, so it's all propane gaz camping lights and battery powered 'torches' and work-lights. Inspired by Diamond's John (and Basil from the Cambria) we also clear away any debris after each short burst of destruction - "squaring away" the rubble and wooden stuff carrying it down to the rubble pile in buckets or rubble sacks, separating the wood into potential kindling and bonfire, burning what can be burned on the bonfire.

Mike-the-Cows has now dragged the old VW Golf out of the brambles with a tractor and left it down by the gate for collection (we hope) later. This has become the place to put scrap metal, hoping that the person who takes the car will also take the scrap. There are two old cookers, a very old pre-electric washing machine with mangle, a fridge lying on it's back like a chest-freezer now filled with rusty tools, nails, brackets, bits of hinge and unidentified farm-related bits.

This is turning into a long post, so I'll break off now and return to this soon.
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Any Old Iron?

A quick picture of yours truly either admiring the sailing barge SB Orinoco, or possibly closely examining the mud on which she rests for its perfumic and beauty enhancing potential. Gotta look and smell my best for the house-vetting Lady from Cinnamon Trust.

Dad gets a day off today in lieu of working last weekend and we all decide to have a day of catching up on the chores. First up a goodly walk round the boatyard and back through town. Next we pull the back seats out of the 2CV (dead easy, two bolts, tilt the seat forward and it unhooks at the front and slides easily out through the rear door aperture. 2CV-ers regularly perform this trick in picnic mode and end up with a very comfortable picnic seat) and head for the allotments.

Here we must gather up the scrap metal, bits of old fence, chicken wire, angle iron, metal pipe and tubes generated by last weekends tidying purge and take it to the tip. While we're there we gather up a small pile from fellow-allotmenter Nick G who has done similar and take his too. We also gather up the small mountain of old carpet, pond liner, plastic fruit-cage mesh and the like to take that to the tip too. Oh, and the roll of carpet, old r*t chewed plastic compost "dalek" and 2 bags of holly leaves from the garden. 3 trips to the tip in all. We're tired and (some of us) sweaty!

Next job, we have Uncle Jim from next door round to help repair a broken off fence post. This proves to be rotted through where it used to be completely entwined in the enormous jasmine 'vine'. The boys use judicious force from a 14lb sledge hammer to persuade a chunk of angle iron down through the rotten post-base without damaging the original concrete, and the post top can then be strapped to this. Good as new. Well, close enough anyway.

...and we get a lovely email from a friend who lives in the famous Challock Forest (hey Rona!). We had all heard that we might need to be careful in the Forest from now as "wild boars" have finally arrived. This turned out to be a false alarm. The "boar" turned out to be a stupidly tame and soppy black farm pig of some heritage breed, which is now recaptured and living safely in Chilham Animal Rescue Centre chasing chickens and charming the visitors.

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