I took no pictures of yesterday’s floorboard removal. While I did manage to create a path across the house, avoiding lifting the bathroom floor, the old floorboards in the spare room were pretty old, so they didn’t react well to my crowbar.
Which meant a trip to the tip was necessary, followed by B&Q for new boards.
I’m really not looking forward to putting it all back.
This afternoon, I removed some floorboards. Apparently, our boiler has an incorrect width gas pipe, which is unfortunately buried in concrete.
So, the new boiler requires a larger pipe and the easiest way to fit one is to follow a path from the front of the house, upstairs and through bedrooms, before returning through the kitchen ceiling at the back of the house.
In a bad situation, there’s often a positive. It was interesting to see that joists had been connected with pegged mortise and tenon joints.
Switched to calendar days; a bigger number, but a more satisfying countdown.
I might have to be sensible more often. After a few pints of Guinness after work, then a takeaway pizza, I retired much earlier than usual.
Which enabled an early start to my Saturday. This morning, at a time I’d usually be eating toast, I’ve already:
– Been to the bank to withdraw boiler funds
– Collected a prescription
– Bought (and consumed) a Greggs’ vegan sausage roll
– Bought my first beer of the day
For the latter, I chose a refreshing blood orange IPA, in the Mean Eyed Cat. Well, after all, I’d usually be drinking orange juice at this time of day.
Much of New Year’s Eve was spent in the Sage.
In the company of these gentlemen.
The Divine Comedy.
Followed by fireworks.
The fourth chapter in my forthcoming book, the Shopping Trolleys of Washington. One even has a kebab pizza.
What benefits could be derived from an aggressive, partially unsuccessful, tooth extraction, you may ask.
Well, I’m now wearing a pair of jeans I’ve not been able to fasten for a very long time.
So flares* might not exactly be fashionable right now, but the important thing is that the jeans fit once more.
There’s another benefit too. Yes, really. I’ve now scientifically proven that excessive beer consumption does not in fact result in a proportionate increase in the size of a man’s midriff. The reduction in my own middle area appears solely to be the result of my two week diet of soup.
While I recognise that a continued soup diet would enable me to maintain my new physique, I fear that this pair of jeans will soon return to the wardrobe.
*they’re not really flares
The Christmas tree, Peterborough.
And a tree at Christmas.
Can’t believe that the Wortley Almshouses is still closed.
So, instead of paying £2.20 for Sam Smith’s stout, I have £4.40 Guinness in the Brewery Tap.
Now, I do like Guinness, but not for twice the price of a nicer beer. Still, the Brewery Tap’s a nice enough place.
