Still not quite to damp…
Entry posted by G and J in Groundworks and Foundations
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Forgive me holy Bill Dub, it has been many weeks since my last confession: and in that time I have uttered much profanity and at times, I have edged a small way towards despair. I used to think I was good at working alone, and I sort of am when I have confidence that I have a good idea of what I am doing. The other thing about working alone is that it’s dangerous - especially with net access and faceache marketplace. Guess who now has a fridge freezer in the site hut (vital, darlings) and a bargain paslode (see, we are self builders really!).
Anyway, to start with the plan was to:
- Block up to damp all but a central path so we could get stuff through to the garden.
- Hire a digger.
- Dig out for the Hide (my hermitage at the bottom of the garden).
- Shutter up and get mesh in for the raft for the Hide.
- Hire a dumper.
- Use said dumper to ferry concrete from the road to the Hide (circa 75m)
- Reduce the ground level at the front of the site where the garage will be.
- Dig, instal and fill in the 2.4m3 soakaway, using the dumper to deposit the spoil at the front of the site for a grab.
- Get the spoil gone with a small (9 ton) grab.
- Enough crush delivered, spread and whackered ready for the over site.
- Mesh in for reinforced over site.
- Dumper in concrete.
- Add top layer of blocks (thermalite) and TA-DA!! we will be ready to start erecting the timber panels which were due for delivery 18th of July.
Good plan. But as we know, no battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy.
Due to the stupid levels of heat, and an old injury flaring up, my retired builder buddy Steve has not had that many days on site in the last 6 weeks. To start with we, meaning Steve, made good progress laying über heavy 140mm concrete blocks. In hindsight using them was a mistake. I was advised to use them rather than thermalite hi-strength blocks for all but the top layer to save money, only they didn’t as the weight really slowed us down. It also took it out of Steve.
But blocks laid, we went on to the Hide, and we got most of it shuttered up and we laid the A393 steel mesh (2.4x4.8m bits of that are heavy!), so we were ready to concrete the raft so I hired the dumper. But then Steve had to have a few days off.
So I pressed on as well as I could. I had no digger or dumper driving experience and frankly it showed in the glacial progress. When I started digging the soakaway hole, if it was being filmed an advisory would be needed at that point to say “those of a nervous disposition please look away now”.
But I managed to dig the soakaway, put the topsoil aside, fill the dumper with load after load of subsoil, dump it by the road, install the crates wrapped in the odd fabric, and put the topsoil back. Exhausting, especially constantly jumping from one machine to the other, but rewarding despite there being no visual evidence after the event except on my phone. Our BCO has since approved our soakaway from the pics, which was a relief.
I think it was around then that it became clear that handballing off the timber panels was going to be a nightmare. Panic. But one conversation with Andy the Boss and a telehandler was booked. Saved again.
Still no Steve, so onto the crush as we can still run the dumper over the crush and the filled in soakaway to get the concrete to the Hide.
30 tons of crush sounds like a lot. However, when faced with a 9 ton load dumped near the front of the site ready for me to drag it onto the slab it feels like an awful lot more than a lot. So days were spent moving crush, some with the dumper to start with but that only worked for so long so the dumper became redundant. I did get a bit faster on the digger, eventually.
Originally I had thought about using a line pump but was dissuaded. Apparently there was a fatality some years ago in our area and it appears amongst many in the trade concrete pumps are the bogeymen. But as there was no sign of Steve returning it was time for a replan - saved again by Andy the Boss. So the dumper was returned and the pump was booked and I carried on with more loads of crush.
The second 9 ton load enabled me to create a sort of ramp so by switching to another local company who had a smaller vehicle I hoped to get 4 ton loads dumped direct where they were needed. It sort of worked.
He reversed down the site and over my foundations and tipped onto what will be our lounge. V good. But then he had trouble getting back up the slope and at one point we were shovelling crush to unstick the lorry. Not good. After a few goes he got out, to my relief, but I was told that the remaining two deliveries would be tipped front of site. Damn.
So I leapt on the digger, and used the hour between deliveries to redo the slope, whackering down the crush in places to help. When the lorry returned the driver got out, looked, nodded, jumped back in his cab and reversed all the way again. Result. Same for the final 4 tons too. Saved me hours of diggering. Peeps do seem to try even harder to help when one is building your own home.
Such a small world though. In conversation with the driver it turns out he delivered the bulk of the aggregates to us during our build 34 years ago.
Another day of grading and whackering and the digger was finally finished with. I sort of enjoyed it a bit but one can have way too much of a good thing.
Steve returned for a couple of days to do the last blockwork needed for the over site pour, which got us into a position where we felt ok about going away for a few days to mark a big anniversary. Which we really enjoyed.
On our return we learnt that Steve was grounded until further notice on medical advice. We had two days on our return to get the A142 mesh in - which was not enough time for me on my own - especially as I had to go get different spacers for the mesh as I’d cocked up my planning. Carrying the 2.4x4.8m sheets on my own was really weird. The weight wasn’t so bad but they waggled so much that it destabilised me so had to stop and ground them to reduce the risk of a fall.
So Saturday morning (the pump was booked for Monday first thing) the cavalry arrived in the shape of J who had re-researched how to do the mesh/spacers/tying in. We flew along. Relief.
On Monday the pour was uneventful. I learned that the fatality was due to a fall where a chap had his hard hat on backwards - nothing really to do with the boom that was there at the time but legends become self sustaining.
A couple of days of tidying up and many, many phone calls then ensued - I needed the top layer of thermalites done otherwise the panels would sit soaking up sun and rain for days. Finding good brickies at short notice appeared a pipe dream.
Not for the first time we were saved yet again by Andy the Boss who rustled up a two plus one brickie team, who, he assured me, would sort things out Friday afternoon as long as I got a mixer on site. Steve agreed to provide a mixer that he’d drop off Friday morning. All way too last minute. We had no choice but to trust and hope.
On Thursday it was pointed out to me that a pile of crush on site could form a ramp which would allow the telehandler to get on the slab and place the panels in the best spot. Sweating profusely with my spade and rake was a good way to learn to appreciate a digger. But by the time I wobbled home site was ready.
Friday morning started badly. Scooby - my dilapidated and beloved Skoda bought a year ago for the build - was booked for an MOT - my mindset was that it was more ‘the last rights’ than it was a routine check. So I loaded my pushbike on top, drove to site to drop off my tools only to find that without warning, the road was closed. Annoyed. Stressed. We’d had to give 12 weeks notice but apparently Anglian Water decided the day before despite it being planned in in advance.
I dropped Scooby off at the garage with a lump in my throat and peddled like mad to get back to site. The water board guys agreed to let our delivery through, much to my relief. On site I wanted to recheck all my levels and move some stuff to be ready for both the delivery and the brickies. I’d just got that done when Andy the Boss turns up in the telehandler. The delivery lorry, however, took one look at the road closed sign and drove off somewhere random to give me a call. Several gritted teeth calls later and I managed to talk him in (why hasn’t anyone invented Satnav?) and we then did lorry and telehandler ballet, with a support act of irate drivers blaming me for the road closure - more gritted teeth, smiling from the nose down calming and redirection of a succession of stressed senior drivers.
The first pile of panels fell off badly placed bearers, after which Andy the Boss followed my signals rather than those from the well meaning driver. (An hour of manual panel shuffling later revealed no damage - thankfully - but they ain’t easy to move on my own as some of the weigh OMFG kg). The rest of the offloading went ok. Deep breaths.
Then Rolly the Chippy turned up to have a look at the panels we will be erecting the following week. He has a lovely calming way with him, just what I needed.
The brickies turned up exactly on time and in a couple of hours on a burning hot Friday afternoon laid a phenomenal amount of blockwork beautifully. Their job was made harder by having to wiggle round the piles of panels but they just took it all in their stride.
And to make matters even better the garage rang. Scooby had passed. I could have cried.
So much had come together all at once. Next week we start putting panels up. Unbelievably fortunate. At times over the last few weeks the fatigue and self doubt had eaten away leaving me feeling that it didn’t matter how much one did right, how much one achieved, all that counted were one’s mistakes. J rightly reminds me that if it was easy everyone would do it, and talking things through together really does help enormously. Right now I feel ridiculously lucky. May that feeling continue.
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