Sunday, March 3, 2013
Warning: May Contain Nuts
I'm having a few woes over the "shed" rebuild, as it's not going to the agreed plan, the builder keeps cutting corners to save on his time and money at MY expense, and presenting finished results we haven't agreed upon.
Latest is, I have to bend double if I want to see out any of the bedroom windows. WTF?? Instead of demolishing and rebuilding from scratch, he's decided to retain the front wall, only to build around it - it was a PIGEON COOP originally, and we humans require a tad more space than they do. The agreement was the bedroom would be built to the exact same spec as to the other living quarters he'd erected - much larger than this.
Yes, we do have an itemized, signed contract, admittedly one he doesn't seem too bothered honouring, and I am certainly doing my best to hold him to it, but it's creating much unnecessary stress and bad feeling, and I've found myself compromising to a far less satisfactory job than was originally planned.
Sadly, two thirds the way into the build, it's far too late to even consider hiring anyone else, and we appear stuck with it. Work began in December, and there is still no sign of when it'll end.
At least we are not paying by the day, thank heavens, and in fairness, someone has been working there every week - they haven't run off and left the site or anything - but, sheesh, the back garden is uninhabitable, and my poor dog has cabin fever. I just want it DONE, and preferably to the way that we agreed to have it.
Actually, I am going to have to check myself from running into a full blown rant regards all other things that is infuriating me right now. All the TV's in our house have been knocked out thanks to the "upgrade" SKY has given us. This is the third week and third engineer visit we're waiting upon. Earlier this week, I got so mad I decided to cancel everything out altogether (having held the line for over three hours, twice, only to be rudely cut off again) - but I've been informed that it takes three months paid notice for any cancellation, and that they won't send an engineer round once I serve it. Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
I also wasted all day a week last Friday, for the courier to arrive to collect my newly serviced sewing machine that doesn't work. No one came. The shop told me it was the courier's fault, the courier told me the shop hadn't given them any booking to collect it (it has to be sent over to the mainland). It took another week and yet another day waiting in for it to finally be picked up, and it'll be at least another week before I can hold out any hope for it's return.
Oh, and don't let me even start on the furniture I ordered on-line two months ago. Every time I chase it up, they've lost my details and need to start over. I know I should just cancel, but I can't find the same style for the right price, and I've really, really set my heart on it. Besides, as it turns out, it's not like I have anywhere to put it anyway, until the outbuildings are complete, right?
On a lighter note, hubby's shoulder is healing. He tripped over on his way home from the pub and completely dislocated his shoulder, not mention the black-eye, and that yard of skin he donated to the pavement. He insists, "I only had two pints, I WAS NOT drunk".
Unfortunately, this was on the week he works away in London. He thinks the adrenalin (not the booze) saw him home - it happened just yards from our flat, and he managed to see himself indoors before collapsing on the bed. Then he couldn't move. Literally. Other than to phone an ambulance. The police had to break the door open to rescue him. He was discharged with painkillers and a sling the next day (took gas and air to set the bone back into the socket).
Since arriving back to us, he hasn't been able to drive, cut his food, or to do much of anything else for ages. Then I caught him yesterday (oh boy, did he jump) making himself a huge fry-up just as he thought I was well out of the house and away.. SURPRISE!!
He's since made a miraculous recovery, lost the sling, and is out gardening in the front, as I type.
Beccy's May Ball is coming up, and much as I'd love to get out of it, I have to go. On the bright side, she turns 18 on the stroke of midnight there, so it saves me throwing any birthday bash for her - but I've just found out my belly won't fit into the frock I want to wear, and so I'm now on an enforced diet, too.
Happy days, eh?
Just be grateful I've not also included in here what that Nutty Nora did to my Sweet Sam, this week. Ooooooh, if ever I could tap dance over someones head.. and still the damn woman is totally oblivious (as ever)!
Okay long-suffering friends, I know when it's time to get out of here, and I promise to return cheerier, slimmer and in a far better fettle, soon - Scout's honour. XX