Renovating Your Home. Part 98
Posted on Tuesday, July 29, 2008I was wondering why the floor tiles were starting to crack.
That little en-suite bathroom was going to be one of the final jobs in the mega-reconstruction of the Bockschloss, and I didn’t pay it much heed after the Rockhopper and myself did the first fix a few years ago. I didn’t even bother finishing the plumbing of the shower.
After all, the monsters of rock were using the area as a band room until savage artistic differences split them up, and then it became quite a useful place to fling things into and forget about them.
Things like ironing, credit card bills, unfavourable medical reports and dead bishops.
But time moves on, and as I might have mentioned, I’m planning a big party in a month or so. There will be fires in the garden, lights among the trees, live music, beer on tap, barbecues glowing and many people. Many, many people and I need the pissing facilities.
This is why I eventually had a closer look at the cracked tiles, thinking, shit anyway, I’ll have to lay some new ones and I hate tiling.
I was wrong. I wouldn’t be laying a few new tiles to replace the cracked ones.
No indeed.
What I’d be doing, and in fact what I spent the entire evening doing, was digging out the rotten timbers that were giving way and causing the tiles to crack because there’s a leaking fucking pipe buried somewhere deep in the fucking concrete. Which means that I won’t be gently trowelling on adhesive and quietly slicing bits of tile to snick back into place with a satisfying slurp.
No. Instead I’ll be smashing out blocks of concrete slab with a jackhammer and tearing up miles of pipework.
Or maybe I’ll be shattering the new fucking shower tray with a sledgehammer to find where it’s leaking. Who knows?
Isn’t DIY fun?
Stumble it!
July 29th, 2008
That is bad news. I’m telling ya Bock, there is nothing I dislike more around the house and that is anything to do with water. Best of luck finding the leaky pipe. Hope it’s not rusted the pipes too badly
July 29th, 2008
Not to fear. The pipes are copper. No danger of rust.
The main danger is to do with blood pressure.
July 30th, 2008
Will I send across the boys to complete the job in under a day? The standard rate is a dozen bottles of Pear Cider per man, per hour, but if they go past 3pm then we’re talking Laphroaig at least.
Please ensure your pets are locked away, one of the lads is from Blantyre, East Kilbride, enough said.
July 30th, 2008
This sounds like something my Dad would do…..quote “i’ll just lay a few tiles, it’ll only take an hour”. Cut to 5 weeks later and the house is in bits. Best of luck with that!!
July 30th, 2008
Whatever happened to asking the wee woman from the village to do these tasks?
July 30th, 2008
Bock, my aul fella was a site foreman over the water for a good number of years. I could come around and assist in the supervising and firing of people.
July 30th, 2008
good luck, sugar! have to admit, i am impressed - a diy project that big a month before a major party in your home and you’re not hiring any outside help! hell, i’d be on the phone asap begging for help or canceling the damn party! xoxox
July 30th, 2008
Bollix: Thanks but I couldn’t afford the drinks bill.
Maz: you’re too kind.
Andrew: the wee woman from the village is gone to Poland working on a roofing contract.
Dan: That would be a great help, especially if you can also talk about football.
Savannah: It’s no big deal. Just a fucking nuisance.
July 30th, 2008
Pipes and dhrains are the sleeping giants of the diy universe. In comes the kango and out goes sanity.
Practice breathing through your teeth…
July 30th, 2008
Conan -
Sanity is in short supply anyway or I wouldn’t have started this project in the first place.
July 30th, 2008
I can talk about football and if necessary wear the loose jeans to give the full building site effect if I have to squat down.
July 30th, 2008
Hmm. That won’t be necessary Dan. Thanks.