“I say you don’t show, don’t move, time is slow. I say take me out.”
- Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand.
- Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand.
After a spot of Christmas shopping, I arrived to discover that I’m locked out. Totally. Completely. Out. I’m locked out of my own house!
Forlorn & desolate. Nooooooo! *composes self* OK. Well, PD/SS must have dropped by to check out the place & secure it before heading off on holidays. A few more lengths of wood were laying in the kitchen – not sure if they were a new delivery of if they’d migrated from elsewhere on site. Could possibly be for the kitchen bulkhead over my cupboards, or shelving supports, or even for correcting the faults in the frame highlighted in the site inspection.
And, I fear to report that my brand new taps aren’t quite as awesome as first thought. I’ve had a better look at their positioning today, and the fresh water tap is in the way of the cross over. MPC states I need to match my driveway to the width of the cross over – which means the tap will need to be moved, or sit in the driveway concrete. Bah. And there’s also the height of them – the plumber has installed them on top of the pile of dirt dumped on the front of my land, not the actual level of the land. Shit! Another one for the list of corrections required.
This window has an orange sill & the next one has a two tone sill. Yuck! I hope the render covers these good & proper.
Why is there so much pipe insulation on the ground? Did the concreters rip it all off my hot water pipes?
Naughty! They forgot to shut the windows & I’m not nearly long & skinny enough to fit through those.












