I’m slow to anger. It takes ages for me to get into a huge simmering-red-faced-hate stage, and truth be told, I’m still not there yet. Could be that it has more to do with the length of time that this has been going on, but I am annoyed. No, actually a little beyond annoyed.
Our build has had its one-year anniversary, not something me and R ever imagined it would do, for an estimated three to four month build… Okay, let’s be kind to the man, six months to take into account covid, weather and supply chain. Can’t help the days that rain. But we are now at one year and one month.
YES – ONE FLAMIN’ YEAR!
What are we building? A house?
Nope, just an extension. True it is a big one but it is single storey and incorporates the existing garage, so part of it was already built.
One year and one month into this process, we are sitting with a leaking extension roof (as there is only plastic sheet up there), unsealed skylights (these have been unsealed since August/September installation) and a window that is so badly fitted in the garage that the art workshop is unusable. We are looking at remedial stuff inside because of the damage from the leaks and every “named storm” has us unable to sleep for the shifting, scraping, clonking breeze blocks up there.
Storm Eunice, bless her little windy-socks, blew a four metre spar of wood from our roof onto our neighbour’s, smashing 2 tiles. The neighbours, though, are wonderful and while the storm was still raging they went up and fixed their roof with spares from ours. When we had part of the roof stripped we kept quite a few tiles. Now, Eunice has smashed a lot but there are a few left, thank goodness.
The builder did appear to put the plastic back – with staples, but since then his labourer has been up twice, to replace the cover or reinforce it with battens, yet here I sit, listening to drips. I’m getting to understand water torture. It is depressing and nerve wracking at the same time.
So, Mr Builder… If you read this – how about getting your skates on so I don’t go mad from the drip-drip, and our ceiling doesn’t fall in, the latter of which you are liable for… Oh, and a new kitchen, if that gets damaged.