That’s house windows, not the computer platform…
The window fitters arrived at around 8:10am yesterday against an eta of 8am. They came in two vans: one to bring the windows; the other to bring the gubbins to fit them. They’d not been there a minute when a neighbour came running out to say they couldn’t leave their van ‘there’. They said it was only for five minutes while they unloaded and that seemed to appease that neighbour at least.
Now, I know people having work done can be a nuisance, and I do tell everyone who comes to the house that nurses are in and out of next door all day now. But we only just moved into a house that’s had nothing done to it for more than 40 years. A house across from us is also having tradesmen coming to do things like heating jobs and roofing jobs, so perhaps the longstanding neighbours are a bit narked that their peace and quiet is being shattered.
But it’s only temporary, people. We’re both only having the work done just the once, we hope. And no one has blocked anyone from getting off their drives.
Last Friday, when the bedroom furniture came, one of the other neighbours came and said they couldn’t leave their van there because she was partially sighted and needed to get her car off the drive…I’ll wait while you read that again.
Now, if she is partially sighted, and driving a car, good for her! But telling people doesn’t exactly fill them with confidence, does it?
Anyway, the second van was really only there as long as it took them to empty it. I’d already moved my car out of their way, and once they’d gone and the other van took their spot on the drive, I went and got my car and parked up on the lawn again.
They did the back three windows first: the bedroom window, the office window, and the bathroom window – although I did later wish I’d thought to ask them to do the bathroom window before starting the other two! I made them cups of tea and served them biscuits (English) for as long as I could still get into the kitchen. They moved to the front of the house in the afternoon and did the kitchen window and the living room window next, and once the kitchen was clear of dust sheets again I could continue with my tea-making.
About halfway through the day we talked about them coming back today to do the front door and side panel. I needed to know what time they’d be here and how long they thought it would take (three hours and 8:15am), because the builders were also coming today to flatten the back garden, cart away all the rubbish, and turf a lawn and I was already stressing over the parking and the neighbours and the nurses and the poet being home too.
So I called the builder to see if they could start in the afternoon instead of the morning, and he counter-asked me if it was all right if they come on Monday. Well, that would be better for me anyway, as that would at least give me a fighting chance of getting some work done this week. He apologised but explained they were running late and he now has to take Friday off. (He’s a young, family man.)
Much of my day was spent supervising the dog, checking and closing doors, checking and closing gates, and making cups of tea. But by the time they moved to the front of the house, it was easier to keep the dog contained and I finally made it to my desk, where I started today’s blog post and shared a few calls for submissions to a couple of writing groups I belong to on Facebook consisting of people who think they’re losing their jobs with so many magazines closing their doors to women’s fiction. Every call pays a fee or a royalty. Every call leaves the copyright with the author. It was like watching a lightbulb go on, the number of people who reacted or commented.
I sent an email to the editing client, letting her know I was back online and live, and asking her if there were any priorities she wanted me to consider. She came back to me only an hour or so later, favourably of course.
The poet came home from work and went around putting all the vertical blinds back up and untwisting those the window fitter at least had a go at. He said the new windows set the house apart from the other houses in the cul de sac, and he thought the rooms inside were already brighter. We changed the old brown frames for bright white ones.
The new sealed units have taken the windows from an F energy rating to an A energy rating, which is a massive leap in the right direction. I mean, it doesn’t get any better than A. There are vents in every window too, so we can still have air flow even when the windows are closed against the elements.
By the time I’d tidied up and had something to eat the day was almost over again and, again, I hadn’t done a stroke of work. Determined to do something about that, I set the Pomodoro going and had a go at finishing the first draft of that story. Forty minutes later, I’d added a further 935 words, bringing it to just under 3,000. Perfect. I’ll give it a quick tweak today and send it off. I don’t expect it to do very well, I think it might be a bit too cosy. But it’s folk horror and it revolves around water. I’m happy with that.
Today, then, the window fitters are coming first thing, but the poet will be around to help, at least for the morning. I also asked if he’d try and arrange time off in the autumn when the bathroom fitters come, just to spread the load a little. He would have taken time off with me now if he’d had more notice, and if he hadn’t just taken a few weeks off to move house. But he thinks October is far enough away for him to block out time in his diary so he isn’t volunteered for anything. We just need a concrete date now from the bathroom fitters…and the joiner…
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