Saturday at last, and the last of the tiling to do: just the two bathrooms to finish. The mayor arrived at 8 am as before, and by lunchtime we'd finished it all. I felt very pleased with what we'd achieved together, and even more so when the mayor said he'd be back on Monday to do the grouting. Once that is done the stairs can go in, and maybe the joiner will actually start putting them up on Wednesday as he has said he intends. We'll see.
Better still, we had a good seven square meters of the flagstones left over, which will go onto the patio outside. Making it fit properly is a little tricky though, and I've been scratching my head over it most of the evening.
It was an absolutely beautiful spring day too, a few thin high clouds and hot sunshine. After clearing up it was time to mow the grass that had been shooting up in all the rain last week. So I'm looking forward to a day off tomorrow - it has been hard work this week and I feel I need a break.
Saturday, 16 May 2009
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Apprentices are getting older
For the last three days I've been helping the mayor to tile the ground floor of the barn. As tiler's labourer I'm allowed to mix the glue - really a special cement - cart the flagstones around, advise on where to put them, and occasionally use the big water cooled saw to cut the flagstones up - and at the time of writing I still have all my fingers.
I've learnt how to lay out a floor like this, and how to make sure that the flagstones go in the right places. I've also learnt that not all these nice limestone flags are quite the same thickness - so we have to use more glue than normal to accomodate this - and that not all of them have been cut to quite the right size.
But the main thing is that I've learnt how hard it is to do all this for seven or eight hours a day, without a break (and remember, this is just my first three days). The glue mixing is what really gets tiring. I'm mixing about 15 kg of glue at a time, in a bucket using a trowel. It has to be mixed so it is only just fluid: a very dry mix indeed, a bit like bread dough in texture, and, like bread mixing, there musn't be any lumps or dry bits in it.
The good news is that we've been getting on very well, with one room completely paved and the other two-thirds done. It's not grouted yet, but even so it's real progress. I've been able to keep the mayor on his knees most of the day, passing him the stones and mixing the glue so he can keep hard at the difficult job of getting them put down straight and level. With our "opus romain" layout this isn't as easy as it would be with tiles all of the same size.the same size and shape (as he said with some feeling).
We've got a surprising quantity of stones left so I am beginning to wonder whether we've over-ordered. It'll be a good thing if we have, as we can use the surplus outside.
I'll post pictures in the next day or two when we've something more finished to show. But with luck we'll be able to tell the joiner to get started on putting the staircase in next week. It's nearly a year since it was delivered and it would be quite something to be able to get rid of the ladder to the upstairs and have a stairwell we can't fall down.
I've learnt how to lay out a floor like this, and how to make sure that the flagstones go in the right places. I've also learnt that not all these nice limestone flags are quite the same thickness - so we have to use more glue than normal to accomodate this - and that not all of them have been cut to quite the right size.
But the main thing is that I've learnt how hard it is to do all this for seven or eight hours a day, without a break (and remember, this is just my first three days). The glue mixing is what really gets tiring. I'm mixing about 15 kg of glue at a time, in a bucket using a trowel. It has to be mixed so it is only just fluid: a very dry mix indeed, a bit like bread dough in texture, and, like bread mixing, there musn't be any lumps or dry bits in it.
The good news is that we've been getting on very well, with one room completely paved and the other two-thirds done. It's not grouted yet, but even so it's real progress. I've been able to keep the mayor on his knees most of the day, passing him the stones and mixing the glue so he can keep hard at the difficult job of getting them put down straight and level. With our "opus romain" layout this isn't as easy as it would be with tiles all of the same size.the same size and shape (as he said with some feeling).
We've got a surprising quantity of stones left so I am beginning to wonder whether we've over-ordered. It'll be a good thing if we have, as we can use the surplus outside.
I'll post pictures in the next day or two when we've something more finished to show. But with luck we'll be able to tell the joiner to get started on putting the staircase in next week. It's nearly a year since it was delivered and it would be quite something to be able to get rid of the ladder to the upstairs and have a stairwell we can't fall down.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
A small step
Went down to the mairie to lodge a request for permission to build a shed in the garden, but discovered from the very helpful secretary there that I didn't have quite as many attachments as Aurillac would like, so it's - literally! - back to the drawing board. They need artistic front and side views.
The mayor was there, and he promised he'd be with us on Monday to start the tiling. So I spent an hour or so this afternoon mixing a bit of concrete to get the step down into the hall the right height. I hope it is now exactly halfway between the doorstep and the floor level. It won't be possible to tile it for a couple of weeks, as the concrete has to cure fully first. But by then, the mayor will have finished the rest and I should know enough about putting the tiles in to do that bit all by myself.
Also today I went up to the tax office in Aurillac to get this years (2008 income) tax return forms. It seems odd that the forms aren't available until the beginning of May (the 5th) and have to be completed and returned no later than the 29th May. Why not have them available from 1 January?
The mayor was there, and he promised he'd be with us on Monday to start the tiling. So I spent an hour or so this afternoon mixing a bit of concrete to get the step down into the hall the right height. I hope it is now exactly halfway between the doorstep and the floor level. It won't be possible to tile it for a couple of weeks, as the concrete has to cure fully first. But by then, the mayor will have finished the rest and I should know enough about putting the tiles in to do that bit all by myself.
Also today I went up to the tax office in Aurillac to get this years (2008 income) tax return forms. It seems odd that the forms aren't available until the beginning of May (the 5th) and have to be completed and returned no later than the 29th May. Why not have them available from 1 January?
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Putting in the windows
In the absence of any paid builders - Francois the plumber apparently still off with his bad knee, and Raymond the tiler running three weeks behind schedule - I decided to get on with work myself. We'd ordered small fixed windows for the few original window openings in the barn - small high-up square holes, which will now be in our bathroom, shower room, etc - just the double-glazed units with no frame.
I cleaned up the openings yesterday and glued the panes in place with mastic, and today I mortared them in, on the inside and the outside. To me most of them look slightly crooked, but I am not sure whether this might be an optical illusion: they seem to be square in the stone opening. I'll check with a spirit level one day, but in the meantime I'll try to think that they add character that way.
The openings did appear to have been cut with a view to putting glass in them, with a flat inner surface that otherwise would have been unnecessary. Though clearly in the 100 years since the barn was built (OK, 99 years) no one had got around to doing it before.
Starting work on this was a little delayed, as a result of a cow incident: Jean-Pierre's cows all escaped and had to be fetched back. This was about a dozen Saler cows, a similar number of calves, and, of course, the bull. Unusually, they had got through the fence into the woods below the field, and had them wandered up past our barn and down the lane. We didn't realise how they had got out until we thought we'd rounded them all up, only to see a lone straggler walking past our pool. Luckily it decided the water was too cold for swimming. The bull was a little frisky, and decided to demolish a large part of one of Leontine's new apple trees. He may just have been scratching his head, but the result was a late and rather heavy pruning. I was astonished to see how little attention Leontine paid to the cows and the bull, walking through them on the lane to get to the bakers van: the cows all have wicked pointed horns, and with their calves around there's always a chance of a misunderstanding.
By the afternoon the weather had actually become hot, and Caro braved the 20 degree water in the pool (twice). I'm waiting for it to be a bit warmer, though I couldn't find enough shade to sit and read later, as the walnut tree is not yet out in full leaf.
I cleaned up the openings yesterday and glued the panes in place with mastic, and today I mortared them in, on the inside and the outside. To me most of them look slightly crooked, but I am not sure whether this might be an optical illusion: they seem to be square in the stone opening. I'll check with a spirit level one day, but in the meantime I'll try to think that they add character that way.
The openings did appear to have been cut with a view to putting glass in them, with a flat inner surface that otherwise would have been unnecessary. Though clearly in the 100 years since the barn was built (OK, 99 years) no one had got around to doing it before.
Starting work on this was a little delayed, as a result of a cow incident: Jean-Pierre's cows all escaped and had to be fetched back. This was about a dozen Saler cows, a similar number of calves, and, of course, the bull. Unusually, they had got through the fence into the woods below the field, and had them wandered up past our barn and down the lane. We didn't realise how they had got out until we thought we'd rounded them all up, only to see a lone straggler walking past our pool. Luckily it decided the water was too cold for swimming. The bull was a little frisky, and decided to demolish a large part of one of Leontine's new apple trees. He may just have been scratching his head, but the result was a late and rather heavy pruning. I was astonished to see how little attention Leontine paid to the cows and the bull, walking through them on the lane to get to the bakers van: the cows all have wicked pointed horns, and with their calves around there's always a chance of a misunderstanding.
By the afternoon the weather had actually become hot, and Caro braved the 20 degree water in the pool (twice). I'm waiting for it to be a bit warmer, though I couldn't find enough shade to sit and read later, as the walnut tree is not yet out in full leaf.
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Spring sunshine at last
I've had enough of April showers so the fine weather of the last couple of days has been very welcome indeed. I decided to take my first bike ride of the year: a circuit down to the Lot and back. Parts of it were sensible. Other parts included the unmade road down to the Moulin du Clout - a "short cut" to Fournoules, and a brief detour onto the GR (long distance footpath) 6 and 65 where they ran parallel to a busy road. The footpath turned out to be a farm track heavily used by tractors and cows, with ankle-deep mud and ruts full of smelly stuff. When it finally became too steep for the cows/tractors, it was down a 45 degree slope rutted into the hillside with running water and loose rocks.
The route was via Fournoules to St Julien de Pignaniol - I got there just as the church service was starting (10 o'clock), and surprising numbers of people going in to. It took a little while to find the very small road behind the church that goes to St Santin - like the road from Cassaniouze to St Julien, it is the boundary between the Aveyron and the Cantal. At St Santin I stopped to check out the two adjoining churches (both apparently built on the site of the original fortifications). Curiously, neither is dedicated to St Santin: the one on the left in the Cantal is Notre Dame and the one on the right is St Peter. The Cantalian church has a romanesque west door and appears to be older than the Aveyronese church (mostly 19th century?). There's no real explanation for the boundary going where it does, though one suggestion is that it marks a watershed. It's now marked in coloured lights set in the ground between the two churches, and the war memorial sits exactly on the line. One face is engraved "St Santin du Cantal", with a list of names, and on the opposite side the other "St Santin d'Aveyron" with a second list.
From there I went on to La Garenne, and climbed the mound (leaving the bike at the bottom). Disappointingly sparse views from the top as a result of all the trees, and I couldn't make out Lessal with my binoculars either. So on from there to Montredon, and the road down to Ladinhac (which is where I took the GR 6 / 65). Curiously I only met walkers on it (seven or eight) on the one section that was a good metalled road. I should have looked at their boots. Once finally down to the Lot it was a pretty easy ride along to Port D'Agres and then St Parthem, where I stopped for lunch by the river. It looked as if the floods had taken away a lot of the surface of the unmade road down there. I sat right at the edge of the river and ate the apple I'd brought. I'd previously cursed slightly that I was too late for lunch in the restaurant there.
On from there to the bridge over the Lot, and winding road up to Cassaniouze.
At this point I realized I wasn't going to enjoy the six miles uphill, but by the time I reached the top I was grateful I hadn't eaten much. I'd decided when I set out in the morning that I'd photograph the orchids I passed, and the very first ones I saw were on the uphill section. After pausing at the first ones for a picture I then ignored all the rest, as getting started again was ... an uphill struggle. At Cassaniouze I took the road via the Chateau de la Mothe, and discovered that - in the other direction - it really is much more downhill than up. Or was I just totally exhausted by then? I started getting off to walk at the shorter uphill sections, and finally teetered up the road to Lessal at a quarter to four. I found that I was having to walk bandy-legged owing to the amount of chafing - definitely saddle-sore.
Resolution - try to pick a ride that ends with a good downhill section - Marcoles might be a better bet next time (and it's closer). But there's certainly a drawback to living half way up a hill.
The bits I can remember - I'm trying to forget the last hour - were a perfect spring day outing. The cowslips and wild violets are still out, buttercups everywhere, grass knee high, and the trees are all coming into leaf, with a lot of blossom still on the fruit trees, though the oaks and walnuts aren't making much of a show yet. I even passed a small patch of wild bluebells looking quite exotic - we don't see much of them round here.
But it will be an early night I think. Eight o'clock?
The route was via Fournoules to St Julien de Pignaniol - I got there just as the church service was starting (10 o'clock), and surprising numbers of people going in to. It took a little while to find the very small road behind the church that goes to St Santin - like the road from Cassaniouze to St Julien, it is the boundary between the Aveyron and the Cantal. At St Santin I stopped to check out the two adjoining churches (both apparently built on the site of the original fortifications). Curiously, neither is dedicated to St Santin: the one on the left in the Cantal is Notre Dame and the one on the right is St Peter. The Cantalian church has a romanesque west door and appears to be older than the Aveyronese church (mostly 19th century?). There's no real explanation for the boundary going where it does, though one suggestion is that it marks a watershed. It's now marked in coloured lights set in the ground between the two churches, and the war memorial sits exactly on the line. One face is engraved "St Santin du Cantal", with a list of names, and on the opposite side the other "St Santin d'Aveyron" with a second list.
From there I went on to La Garenne, and climbed the mound (leaving the bike at the bottom). Disappointingly sparse views from the top as a result of all the trees, and I couldn't make out Lessal with my binoculars either. So on from there to Montredon, and the road down to Ladinhac (which is where I took the GR 6 / 65). Curiously I only met walkers on it (seven or eight) on the one section that was a good metalled road. I should have looked at their boots. Once finally down to the Lot it was a pretty easy ride along to Port D'Agres and then St Parthem, where I stopped for lunch by the river. It looked as if the floods had taken away a lot of the surface of the unmade road down there. I sat right at the edge of the river and ate the apple I'd brought. I'd previously cursed slightly that I was too late for lunch in the restaurant there.
On from there to the bridge over the Lot, and winding road up to Cassaniouze.
At this point I realized I wasn't going to enjoy the six miles uphill, but by the time I reached the top I was grateful I hadn't eaten much. I'd decided when I set out in the morning that I'd photograph the orchids I passed, and the very first ones I saw were on the uphill section. After pausing at the first ones for a picture I then ignored all the rest, as getting started again was ... an uphill struggle. At Cassaniouze I took the road via the Chateau de la Mothe, and discovered that - in the other direction - it really is much more downhill than up. Or was I just totally exhausted by then? I started getting off to walk at the shorter uphill sections, and finally teetered up the road to Lessal at a quarter to four. I found that I was having to walk bandy-legged owing to the amount of chafing - definitely saddle-sore.
Resolution - try to pick a ride that ends with a good downhill section - Marcoles might be a better bet next time (and it's closer). But there's certainly a drawback to living half way up a hill.
The bits I can remember - I'm trying to forget the last hour - were a perfect spring day outing. The cowslips and wild violets are still out, buttercups everywhere, grass knee high, and the trees are all coming into leaf, with a lot of blossom still on the fruit trees, though the oaks and walnuts aren't making much of a show yet. I even passed a small patch of wild bluebells looking quite exotic - we don't see much of them round here.
But it will be an early night I think. Eight o'clock?
Monday, 13 April 2009
Easter Monday 2009
Still raining - so there's the challenge of trying to get a picture that reflects how things really are. I liked this one, and with difficulty managed to upload it to here. Getting it the right size wasn't too difficult. The raindrops show nicely on the blossom, and the camera isn't too tilted either, so the house looks pretty well upright. The muddy tracks from the builders' lorries show regrettably rather well: the latest one was delivering the floor tiles for the downstairs, and he couldn't resist driving up the hill to turn round - and excavate a small trench in doing so.
Here is the new, almost finished concrete slab outside our bedroom window, with all the floor tiles stacked up on pallets on the two older sections. Eventually we hope that when the slab is tiled over it will end up pretty well level with the ground on the uphill side.
Here is the new, almost finished concrete slab outside our bedroom window, with all the floor tiles stacked up on pallets on the two older sections. Eventually we hope that when the slab is tiled over it will end up pretty well level with the ground on the uphill side.
Sunday, 12 April 2009
April showers - tipping it down....
Back at Lessal with Jane and Mike, but the spring weather is not exactly a joy. We've had two or three days of good warm sunshine, but the rest of the time it's been raining or strong winds or both. Still, Mikey has helped me get the final slab of concrete down by the bedroom door, and Jane has helped Caro with painting the dark red hessian wall in the farmhouse - I was surprised at how much it makes the room look brighter.
The boiler is now at last running, 24 hours a day, and drying out the heated floor. The whole barn is warm, even without the radiators upstairs, but that's hardly surprising as the lower floor is more like a sauna than a house. A rather smoky sauna, though, as the temporary chimney fits rather loosely on the boiler, and a good proportion of the smoke goes into the barn rather than up the chimney. It is giving the barn more of a lived-in character (old wood-smoke, quite a pleasant smell). But except when we've got the fire in the farmhouse going full blast, it means the warmest spot is where we can't actually sit around.
Jean-Louis Aymar and Michel Goutel have got the silo sufficiently finished to be used, and it contains our first load of wood chippings. The rain doesn't seem to be coming into it anywhere, but we'll need to keep our eye on it. It looks a little odd seeing the temporary chimney smoking away at the edge of the silo, and it'll be a few weeks (months?) before the proper chimney is in place. We do have a start date for the tiling too - St George's Day. And I've volunteered to be the tiler's mate. Maybe I'll learn something (if only how to avoid doing my back in).
Today it's a very wet Easter Sunday - but there's a leg of lamb in the over for later (3pm?), and Mikey and I are off out to see about some asparagus (well wrapped up).
The boiler is now at last running, 24 hours a day, and drying out the heated floor. The whole barn is warm, even without the radiators upstairs, but that's hardly surprising as the lower floor is more like a sauna than a house. A rather smoky sauna, though, as the temporary chimney fits rather loosely on the boiler, and a good proportion of the smoke goes into the barn rather than up the chimney. It is giving the barn more of a lived-in character (old wood-smoke, quite a pleasant smell). But except when we've got the fire in the farmhouse going full blast, it means the warmest spot is where we can't actually sit around.
Jean-Louis Aymar and Michel Goutel have got the silo sufficiently finished to be used, and it contains our first load of wood chippings. The rain doesn't seem to be coming into it anywhere, but we'll need to keep our eye on it. It looks a little odd seeing the temporary chimney smoking away at the edge of the silo, and it'll be a few weeks (months?) before the proper chimney is in place. We do have a start date for the tiling too - St George's Day. And I've volunteered to be the tiler's mate. Maybe I'll learn something (if only how to avoid doing my back in).
Today it's a very wet Easter Sunday - but there's a leg of lamb in the over for later (3pm?), and Mikey and I are off out to see about some asparagus (well wrapped up).
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Meteo France says it's cloudy today but ...
.... what do they know? It's raining. And I spent yesterday getting the shuttering ready for the next tranche of concrete, and getting a couple of extra trailer-loads of sand and gravel, and now I can't do it. I'd hoped to have just the one last piece to do when Howard is here next week - it's always nice to finish a job - but now that looks unlikely. The forecast is pretty unremitting rain for the next week, but, of course, what do they know? Which I think is where I came in.
So this wet Sunday is likely to be spent indoors (I've got a cold anyway) telling myself that the spring flowers need rain as well as sunshine. Not that very much is out yet - just a few yellow tips on the odd daffodil, appropriately enough for St David's Day. And maybe the grass seeds I've sown on the new ramparts at the end of the garden will germinate.
Last night we went out to the annual dinner of the "Vivre en Chataigneraie". We were the guests of Lucienne who unfortunately wasn't well enough to come herself, and we had a lovely time. The main dish was Civet de Cerf, or venison stew, which was very nice even after Caro said "that means it's cooked in blood". Country dancing at the end to the sound (music?) of an accordeon and a set of bagpipes. Strangely well-matched instruments, with the emphasis on "strangely" .....
So this wet Sunday is likely to be spent indoors (I've got a cold anyway) telling myself that the spring flowers need rain as well as sunshine. Not that very much is out yet - just a few yellow tips on the odd daffodil, appropriately enough for St David's Day. And maybe the grass seeds I've sown on the new ramparts at the end of the garden will germinate.
Last night we went out to the annual dinner of the "Vivre en Chataigneraie". We were the guests of Lucienne who unfortunately wasn't well enough to come herself, and we had a lovely time. The main dish was Civet de Cerf, or venison stew, which was very nice even after Caro said "that means it's cooked in blood". Country dancing at the end to the sound (music?) of an accordeon and a set of bagpipes. Strangely well-matched instruments, with the emphasis on "strangely" .....
Friday, 27 February 2009
(very) Small pleasures of laying concrete
Put down the final layer on the first slab today. The small pleasures in question were:
- having enough cement, sand and gravel before I started
- having enough time
- shovelling straight from the piles of sand and gravel into the mixer, and tipping the mixer straight into the shuttering
- working out how to get the mixer on its stand without a well-muscled helper
- finishing without getting my gloves wet, as a result of turning on the tap just enough to fill the watering can between mixer-loads (adjusting the tap means wet gloves)
- getting the surface nice and flat
- finishing before 11.30 (in the morning)
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Out in the AZU
We went out in the AZU, over to a village the other side of Figeac, to see a couple with a similar van - more original, but needing more work - and also an Austin 7.
It was an easy drive over, and a beautiful warm sunny day. Bob and Karen made us really welcome, shared their lunch with us, and generally let us waste their time. Bob kindly let me drive both the van and the car, and afterwards Caro and I both felt it might be worth bringing our Lichfield over here to join the AZU: Bob assured me that it's not too difficult to import a really old vehicle.
His AZU, though CT-ed and totally legal, still needs a bit of work on the front wings, and bonnet to finish it: the bits that Bob has done - most of the van! - look as if they'll last another 50 years (his is a 1961 model, with suicide doors).
We were most impressed by the barn conversion Bob and Karen had done, all their own work but looking very professional (they'd even done the roof tiles themselves), and as a result I'm newly incentivized to try reusing some of the old oak floor-boards, spoilt though they are. B & K had done a really good job with old chestnut planking. Though I have to say I am rather jealous of Bob's well-equipped shed. Another resolution for Lessal. They also told us about French conversation evenings at Figeac and we've decided we'll give that a try too.
We were back here in time to enjoy a cup of tea by the new concrete, and plan the next mixing day (Friday?). Still cold once the sun has set though, so the fire is now lit and roaring away.
It was an easy drive over, and a beautiful warm sunny day. Bob and Karen made us really welcome, shared their lunch with us, and generally let us waste their time. Bob kindly let me drive both the van and the car, and afterwards Caro and I both felt it might be worth bringing our Lichfield over here to join the AZU: Bob assured me that it's not too difficult to import a really old vehicle.
His AZU, though CT-ed and totally legal, still needs a bit of work on the front wings, and bonnet to finish it: the bits that Bob has done - most of the van! - look as if they'll last another 50 years (his is a 1961 model, with suicide doors).
We were most impressed by the barn conversion Bob and Karen had done, all their own work but looking very professional (they'd even done the roof tiles themselves), and as a result I'm newly incentivized to try reusing some of the old oak floor-boards, spoilt though they are. B & K had done a really good job with old chestnut planking. Though I have to say I am rather jealous of Bob's well-equipped shed. Another resolution for Lessal. They also told us about French conversation evenings at Figeac and we've decided we'll give that a try too.
We were back here in time to enjoy a cup of tea by the new concrete, and plan the next mixing day (Friday?). Still cold once the sun has set though, so the fire is now lit and roaring away.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Shovelling it in ...
A beautiful sunny morning (and sunshine all day), so obviously the right thing to do is to lay some concrete.
So first thing this morning (OK, ten o'clock) down to Chausson to get 720kg of sand and 6 bags of cement. Saw a pair of red kites over the upper Cele valley on the way down (the newspaper reports that the annual count of kites in the Cantal shows numbers significantly reduced in the last two years).
I then spent the next few hours shovelling the gravel and sand and cement into the mixer and tipping it direct into the formwork outside the (future) bedroom window. At lunchtime, having used up all the cement, wolfed down the remains of yesterday's dinner, and back down to Chausson for another 6 bags. Used three of these and finished the slab - a total of about 2.4 tonnes of dry materials, and probably another 0.1t of water - about two and a half tonnes of concrete (somewhere between 1 and 1.5 cubic meters?).
When it was all down, and we were about to sit down for a cup of tea, I noticed that the long board with the heaviest weight of concrete on it had bowed by about 3 or 4 centimeters in the middle. After cursing for a few minutes, I found a concrete block, wedged it against the middle of the shuttering, and used a sledgehammer to drive a thick piece of wood between the block and the shuttering. Surpisingly this worked, and the shuttering is now straight again.
Since finishing the concrete and the tea, I've been spending the last half-hour going out to admire it at five minute intervals, telling myself that I'm making sure that the neighbour's dogs don't walk over it (as I am sure they will). Later on, if there's a reasonably dry surface, I'll try to cover it over with sacking as the weather forecast is freezing temperatures overnight.
What does it look like? Pretty much like concrete, unfortunately.
So first thing this morning (OK, ten o'clock) down to Chausson to get 720kg of sand and 6 bags of cement. Saw a pair of red kites over the upper Cele valley on the way down (the newspaper reports that the annual count of kites in the Cantal shows numbers significantly reduced in the last two years).
I then spent the next few hours shovelling the gravel and sand and cement into the mixer and tipping it direct into the formwork outside the (future) bedroom window. At lunchtime, having used up all the cement, wolfed down the remains of yesterday's dinner, and back down to Chausson for another 6 bags. Used three of these and finished the slab - a total of about 2.4 tonnes of dry materials, and probably another 0.1t of water - about two and a half tonnes of concrete (somewhere between 1 and 1.5 cubic meters?).
When it was all down, and we were about to sit down for a cup of tea, I noticed that the long board with the heaviest weight of concrete on it had bowed by about 3 or 4 centimeters in the middle. After cursing for a few minutes, I found a concrete block, wedged it against the middle of the shuttering, and used a sledgehammer to drive a thick piece of wood between the block and the shuttering. Surpisingly this worked, and the shuttering is now straight again.
Since finishing the concrete and the tea, I've been spending the last half-hour going out to admire it at five minute intervals, telling myself that I'm making sure that the neighbour's dogs don't walk over it (as I am sure they will). Later on, if there's a reasonably dry surface, I'll try to cover it over with sacking as the weather forecast is freezing temperatures overnight.
What does it look like? Pretty much like concrete, unfortunately.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Just what I wanted for my 60th birthday - a blog
I started the day with a bit of retail therapy: 1.3 tonnes of 4/16 gravel (will be getting the sand and cement tomorrow). This is two trailer-loads, and it felt just a little too much for the trailer both times. It always does. However just tipping it where the mixer will be sited (next to the slab I'm pouring) is going to make for a lot less shovelling and barrowing.
It's been a cold and windy day here in the Cantal, so I had mixed feelings about the weekly walk organized by the Club des Aines du Haut Cele ("Les Tousmalou"), and the first mile or so it certainly felt like winter. But once we got off the hilltop and down into the valley it was fine, and a interesting round trip from Cassaniouze to La Mothe and back. Caro had baked sixty little sponge cakes to celebrate the day, and the 18 walkers (including us) made pretty short work of them. Then back for an equally windswept talk with the plumber and builder about the work on the barn, neither of whom were quite able to say when they'd be back to do the work, and dinner with Tony and Anne. Raining!
It's been a cold and windy day here in the Cantal, so I had mixed feelings about the weekly walk organized by the Club des Aines du Haut Cele ("Les Tousmalou"), and the first mile or so it certainly felt like winter. But once we got off the hilltop and down into the valley it was fine, and a interesting round trip from Cassaniouze to La Mothe and back. Caro had baked sixty little sponge cakes to celebrate the day, and the 18 walkers (including us) made pretty short work of them. Then back for an equally windswept talk with the plumber and builder about the work on the barn, neither of whom were quite able to say when they'd be back to do the work, and dinner with Tony and Anne. Raining!
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