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The wailing and gnashing of teeth when my digga left the premises only got worse when I realised that Hartley Hire (good mates to me) were shutting up shop - no diggas for hire. The BH member who stole my beloved digger - you know who you are, (Sue) - should give it me back: pronto. I didn't mean to sell it. It wuz an accident. Honest.? I need to dig the trenches for our foul drains. But no digger. Or prospect of a digger. Just a day's work with a 2 tonner. Poo. Back t' 'drawin' board then. Dad was one of the Bridge Masters who were employed by the Local Authority while the M5 was being built. He was permanently banging on about coffer dams. Very focused on digging deep holes for bridge paprapets. Dimly, I seemed to remember something about digging deep holes in sand - like they have to do everywhere in Berlin. Its tricky, dangerous work. I recon the invert for our foul drain is about 1300mm down: not that far. But far enough if the bloody trench keeps falling in. I don't mind spade work, but a weekends' work was disappearing before my eyes. Damn. And then I remembered the key term: timber shoring, or even close timber shoring . Quick google and then this You beauty. Here's the trench without shoring Can't photograph a sore back: but it's sore. Monday afternoon I notice the edge is starting to cave in - collapse. So this is what did .... I've yet to dig towards the house (as opposed to along the side): thats where I'll need the close timber shoring. I'll post some pics tomorrow. Yes, I have blisters on my hands. Big girl......