Last Dunny standing…
Entry posted by G and J in Da Bungalow
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The week starts with the removal of the external walls on the rear half of da bungalow. That’s the fun bit. I’m armed with two chainsaws and a reciprocating saw (aka sabre saw, for some reason). I bought the sabre saw as Steve the builder recommended one for demolition. When I bought it I knew it would be useful, but I knew my trusty chainsaws would get more done quicker and easier. It’s not easy working with someone who’s right every damn time. Sigh.
So the chainsaws remain at rest while we quickly get into a rhythm of joist then upright removal, working our way along the frame till the only part of the rear half standing is the chimney and it’s wings (and our neighbours wall are still untouched ….yay!!).
The pile of wood at the front of the plot is now clearly tidal. We cut wood, the tide flows. The ‘wood man’ comes, the tide ebbs. The cycle disguises the sheer volume of wood we are handling. It constitutes an awful lot of skip savings.
Next day it’s straight back to heavy spade work for me, knocking of plaster and trying to leave the metal lathe mesh stuff reasonably clean to make later processing for recycling easier. In the process I discover previously a hidden window and a door - it would be fascinating to understand the history, the sequence of events and the reasons, but we can only guess. Steve is straight into heavy hammer work taking down the chimney and wing walls, and he discovers thermalite block so that chimney isn’t original either. Most interesting.
Nobody tells you about the dust when you talk about demolition. I thought I’d done dusty jobs before but not like this. It’s like you bath in it. Everything on site is coated and one touch leaves my hands feeling almost ‘smooth’ in a strange kind of way. The dust masks that started off annoying are now comforting, I now start the day clean shaven to help them work better. But they discourage hydration as lifting the mask up to drink means putting a sweat soaked mask back on one’s face. Less than ideal.
Warm dry weather makes it worse, and when a stiff breeze gets up it really is the limit. My goggles fully protect my eyes from dust. Unfortunately they also protect my eyes from seeing anything, as they mist up in seconds each time they are cleaned. I sprayed them with de-icer and that did help - it trebled the time it took them to mist up - sadly that still only made about two minutes.
So, back to specs type protection it is. The high velocity flying bits are deflected but the fine dust floats round and gently crusts, aided by the breeze which isn’t enough to cool me but is easily enough to ensure dust gets everywhere quickly.
Skooby (trusty steed, or cheap ancient Skoda on her last legs bought for the build, depending on one’s point of view) now has a light gray interior. Not just from my clothes, though that would be enough, but also from the stuff piled in her for the tip runs.
And the litres of moisturiser I get through is crazy - we never budgeted for that - the dust dries the skin like mad. But, one just carries on.
So having removed the back half the question is what to do next. Steve is logical and methodical. So he advocates carrying on removing the rearmost and working our way forwards. That means the dunny.
But I still have a bladder, and age dictates that that bladder is attended to regularly. And I’m tight and we’ve nowhere sensibly to put a rented thunderbox anyway. So the score on that one ends up as Common sense: 0; G’s bladder: 1. So, after adding some diagonal bracing ‘just in case’ we bypass the loo and work forward.
Yet another carefully considered risk assessment debate ensues. These consist of Steve standing and looking for a bit while I remain silent. He then says what we are doing next and I say yes Steve. Simples. In this instance we are going to remove the lintel above the old front door as otherwise when we remove the studwork near it there might be instability, as one end rests on a tiny masonry pillar held up only by studs. It takes an hour to drop the blockwork above and the large catnic lintel we discover. More to clean up and sell, if only I could lift it.
Then, finally, it’s back to studwork removal time. The ‘wood man’ has been again so the wood tide is thankful out, so there’s space to put the wood mountain. Another excellent four days, so much so that we all take the Friday off.
It turns out that being at home on a day off is emotionally, much easier than visiting site. A few jobs need doing around the house which helps, but it’s basically ok. It tells me that I could never live on site and have any peace of mind. I already spend a lot of time thinking things through/worrying myself into a fizz when I should be sleeping, and I think that would be massively greater if we lived either in site or very close nearby. The 20 minutes in Skooby as she grumbles along is vital to prepare for the day and then later, to help me start to decompress. It’s easy to think about one’s muscles needing rest, but not so easy to think about one’s head, but I’m trying, and it seems that that drive, and a soak in a scummy bath, is as vital as talking the day over with J. It’s like mentally putting one’s tools away, clean and tidy. Cooking helps too…
Saturday it’s time to get all the lead, the house wiring, and (as it turns out) 80kg of gas boiler to the scrap yard - no wonder the boiler was so hard to lift!
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