Like an ageing locomotive long past its usefulness being kept on the rails by a band of well meaning enthusiasts, our renovation grinds and wheezes its way towards the buffers at an ever decreasing speed.
As I sit and write this I’m quaffing my third glass of red wine, the result of a meeting we had with our long suffering contractor this evening to try to work out why it’s all taking so god dammed long (and also so that he could ask for half of the outstanding bill. Hence the wine intake).
My personal answer is that when tradesmen turn up every other day to fill one hole, or just to “collect my tools”, you pretty much know their heart has gone out of the project. Two months ago C announced that he was placing a time limit of two weeks to completion and just today, why! He announced that we were “About two weeks from completion”.
We know the guys are as fed up with it as we are because, shortly after managing to smash the outer layer glass on our new oven door, our chippie stormed out, exclaiming “I’m sick of this %$*#ing job!”.
One thing we do know though, is that the water in the shower works. Wifey found that out as she was telling me that it wasn’t really plumbed in yet, while standing, fully clothed, under the shower head and playing with the tap.
Our neighbour over the road started building his extension about three weeks ago and it seriously looks as if he’ll be finishing before we do.