I get up early on most days, earlier as the mornings become
lighter. So at 5.30 on this particular late spring day I was at my computer,
working on a blog and turning it into hard copy for alteration and correction.
The on-going, almost abstract pastel of a “Landscape Recalled” could wait.
Ablutions,
then the collection of the newspaper and breakfast for us both either in or on
the bed followed at around 7.30.
I did not
have to think about cooking as it was my week off. I had odd jobs in mind.
Over the
previous two days I had carved a piece of wood to fill a hole in the large
wooden sculpture of “Lovers” that had rotted and was being restored in the
garden. The wooden wedge was glued and hammered in place. Now it needed only
filler and a coating of black bitumastic paint – which I did. Mice had been
using this hole as their front door – but no longer.
After
washing up in the kitchen I thought that I might clean the drains – a periodic
task that keeps the house in working order.
The u-bend
drain on a small basin fills with junk and furs up with limescale over time.
The judicious use of spirit of salts, scraping with a screwdriver, rubbing with
a scourer, and the insertion of a bottle brush does the trick. Dirty wastewater
now part filled a plastic basin with unpleasant material that in normal
circumstances would have been washed away had the basin been large enough to
provide an adequate head of water to flush it.
Nearby is a
shower drain to be cleared of hair. The drain hole contains a simple device
that catches hair before it can clog an inaccessible waste pipe. This, again,
is not a pleasant job, but a periodic and necessary one.
And as I
was on this drain-clearing business, the coarse filter on the clothes-washing
machine had to be cleared and cleaned. Drains done. Satisfaction ensured.
A dormer
window needed attention. So as this was becoming a real odd job day, I was on a
roll, using putty to fill the gap between lead roofwork and window frame. When
the combination occurs of a strong east wind and rain, water runs off the lead
covering and is then blown up behind where it should, in normal circumstances,
drip down outside. When this happens, some rainwater appears as dirty liquid to
run down inside the window. So I hoped that my putty treatment would work.
Putty was
also used to fill gaps on and around the outside of an old window frame, where
paint will be needed later.
Since
starting to resuscitate the large, wooden, “Lovers” sculpture in the garden,
the kitchen table inside the house had been covered with tools, brushes, and
several tins of preserver, hardener, bitumastic paint and such. Now, with the
sculpture restored, after weeks of work, I could at last clear the table and
get rid of the rubbish and newspaper protective covering.
My recently
employed hearing aids (which take some getting used to) told me in blips that
the batteries needed changing. Which I did.
Then, as I
had the spirit of salts at hand, I dealt with limescale that had built up
around the waste plugholes in bath, bidet and basin, and in the lavatory. With
a high lime content in London
water, this is a regular task. Spirit of salts is dangerous to handle, can
destroy plumbing joints, and has noxious vapour. So I used it sparingly, wore
rubber gloves for protection, and was careful not to breathe in any fumes.
Back to the
computer, Margreet had made a few editorial suggestions, which are always
spot-on and helpful. So I could, at last, put the piece (on “Sculpture
Restoration”) onto a 3 ½” floppy disk (Windows 95) for her to convert into
modern computer-speak in her much more modern machine. She will choose when to
cast it forth into the ether.
The catch on the lock of our
lovely little shed (some would call it a summerhouse) was not securing the
door. So with saw, file and screwdriver, this had to be rectified. And the thin
brass hinges on a clothes cupboard had sprung, and needed a few blows with a
hammer to put it right.
A couple
were coming for 6 o’clock drinks, so I started to make a special "house”
cheese pancake, which gave me time to plant out some tomato and runner bean
plants that had been nurtured from seed in pots on the kitchen window sill.
Then I watered the garden.
We showed
our guests the newly sprouting mistletoe growing from the bark of our apple
tree in a pot, and gave them a conducted tour of pictures. The latter can take
ten minutes or so to an hour or two, depending on time and/or interest.
It had been
quite a busy day for an 88 year old when coming to think of it. But it’s best
not to.
How, I
wondered, can anyone run a house properly without an odd job man (or woman)
about the place?
