Thursday, March 3, 2011

Digging Deep

This is the external view of our bedroom, I love it.

On the other side of all of that foliage is this - the wall that our very schmicko linen headboard is attached to & there is a problem. Somewhere in amongst all those leaves is a very important downpipe that collects a lot of water from our roof when it buckets down. The pipe runs down the wall, then under & along the paving in our little courtyard & then down a deep trench off into the garden. It's the original c1972 jobbo & it's mightily stuffed. The water is not draining away & is pooling at the base which means there's the possibility of a damp issue in that wall if it's not repaired pronto. This should be a job for Russell the Plumber, but you know MOTH, he won't spend a cent on anything he can vaguely do himself.

So this Sunday morning it's all hands on deck, or in this case, on courtyard. I want at all cost to preserve as much of the Ornamental Grapevine as I can in the 'repair' process, as I think it's a lovely feature of that part of the house. Plus it offers great shade & keeps the bedroom considerably cooler in Summer. The boys have been co-opted in return for beer & a roast dinner. They'll need to dig up the pavers, replace the downpipe on the wall, run it down along the trench, organize the run-off & replace all the pavers just as they were while MOTH 'supervises', as his crook shoulder is still giving him heaps. I've told them if I trip over any of the replaced pavers that aren't sitting flush, they're immediately out of the Last Will & Testament of their mother. Wish me luck, I reckon I'll need it!!



  1. She'll be apples Millie. Or should that be grapes:) Good luck with it all, because that bed is beautiful.

  2. I swear that more time is spent fixing damp courses than any other problem! Here in Normandy (notoriously damp and green) all the old houses like ours were built directly on the ground - yup, no foundations. See what MOTH thinks of that idea!!

  3. Hi Millie,

    Good luck and I am sure with your strong boys the job will be done pronto.
    Sounds like a good deal with the roast dinner and beer.

    Have a good weekend

  4. Oh Millie...I feel for you. The Virgo in me winces. The vines, damp, family pulling apart your courtyard....but then you turn around and look at that beautiful bedroom. There is hope :)

    I wish you luck...I think I would tuck into the champers early that day and have yourself a good one!

    Jeanne xx

  5. What a beautiful, beautiful outside wall; I hope the foliage survives. And your bedroom is lovely.

  6. Beautiful. (I can get my guys to do almost anything for beer and a pot roast.)

  7. What's the point of having children if they can't muck in and help out - but just be careful - remember they get to choose your resthome!
    David :-)

  8. Oh dear. I hope it all goes smoothly!

  9. It's gorgeous...I can see why you don't want any of it damaged! Boys will always work for food, won't they? Best of luck in supervising! lol.

  10. Oh that is one very happy creeper! Stunningly verdant and I see why you are nervous about it. But it looks as if it will be a tough survivor, as it is so strong. Good luck!

  11. Good luck with that! I would say the tall tales and general banter should make for an interesting weekend.

  12. Beer and a good roast will do it every time.....those mere males are so easy to please ;) Loving your bedroom...

  13. that's what you had five boys for. i'd keep Russell's phone number handy just the same! Good luck with supervising.

  14. Millie...I wish you luck and for MOTH's sake I hope a call to Russell is not necessary. Those buried pipes always clog up after a few years. Is there any way to put it on the outside connected to a rain barrel? Just a thought if all else fails.
    xo, Rosemary

  15. Such a peaceful haven is that bedroom - a room with a view!
    Best of luck. But I heard it through the grapevine (guffaw) that everything's gonna be alright. You'll Russel something up, I'm sure ;-)


And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden

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