Trashing the living room

It's all been moving a pace at the new house. A big cement wagon thingy arrived with a hundred men to pour the foundations into the trench. It was done within about 15 minutes, and they were gone. The following morning it was set ready to build on, and down went the foundation blocks, which will all be underground.


Foundation blocks

Lots and lots of cement

I always find it fun to stand in a space which won't be there in the future, like standing in the trench, or a few feet down in the middle of the plot where my body would, in future, be sliced by the floorboards.


Off with those flowers

This week we also started trashing the living room, which is the only room we hadn't touched so far. I shifted all the boxes of Gangan's bits into the cupboard under the eaves, which I'd painted white inside already. Then we removed the wooden mantelpiece and the cast-iron fire surround. We're giving it to one of our new neighbours, Carol, for her back room.














Then the chimney sweep came; he was 100 years if he was a day, no kidding, and his hearing was not too good, but he was a cheerful chap and didn't leave a speck of dust. TJ and I were painting in the attic and we could hear the brush in the chimney as he worked. We even saw the brush peep out of one of the pots on the roof, startling the seagulls.