Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Mountain And Valley Views

Well, we've been back home for a week now and really I can't find anything to moan about, I'm thoroughly enjoying all the activity - less so the cough, cough, dust but obviously that can't be helped.

Heanor Haulage put in a daily appearance last week collecting flatbeds and I think they may have been going to move an old boiler [not me], but as it was a wide load [still not me] they probably wouldn't have been able to get it through their old front yard as Wessex Archaeology have been pottering about where a bit of old railway line was pulled up. This fenced off bit may have been in the way of 'big stuff' manoeuvring.
At the moment there's no chance of HH visiting the back of us as the road to it is being dug up as I type.

I had a brief senior moment yesterday [it happens] when I looked through our bedroom window and thought there were a lot more cars in their temporary car park next to the railway line than usual. It gradually dawned on me that they'd knocked some of the old wall down along Pottery Lane and I could just see more.

A day in the life of - me [when I'm in] ... I get up early [I didn't say I stopped up] to close the bedroom window before the workmen arrive, then lie in bed watching the trains go by. Then over the next half hour the cars, vans and whatever extra equipment that is needed arrives. Work starts at 8.00ish and they're at it all day until 6.00ish. in-between times - and I'm not saying when - I get up and on with my work with brief interludes for nosying, photography, noshing and houseworky type things, hmm I think I may have put the emphasis on the wrong word there, OK I'm nosy and take photo's, all the other bits fit around that.

And across from us ... There are pick things [you'll have to excuse my terminology] breaking up the surface concrete. Scoops that drop the concrete from great heights to smash it into smaller pieces - we feel the Earth move at this point - these chunks are fed into a machine that chews it up and spits it out as hardcore - mountains of it.

Then there are diggers fetching the soil out, going down as far as, [4 metres] ooh at least an old mine as it's very black soil [yeah, yeah, I know where we are]. This is taken away by tippers - who when reversing sound like very angry crows - and rearranged into piles around the yard, notably one big pile in front of us [at the moment]. Every so often a magnet is attached to one of the diggers and metal is shifted. I suppose I may as well upload some photo's, it's easier than explaining really.

Oh! This morning ... I've mentioned that I'd not put my nets back up as we're relatively private at the moment - yes OK, they're not up because I'm nosy, lets get the truth out in the open - and to keep yanking them aside to take photo's wouldn't do them any good. Now where was I? Oh yes, this morning. I was just having a slurp of coffee that the grumpy old man had made - he brings me one up every morning because [you're going to love this], I'm crap at making coffee. On the odd occasion I've got up first to make it, I either forget what I'm doing and make tea or lie there moaning about the disgusting taste of my coffee until he gets up and makes me another.

You know, I'm getting just like Ronnie Corbett in one of those ridiculous stories where he keeps going off at a tangent - and I hate that bit!

As I was saying ... This morning, I was watching the trains and drinking my delicious mug of coffee - courtesy of the GOM, when this head suddenly appeared over the hoarding straight across from me. I just yanked the duvet and dragged it over my head, sending the poor unsuspecting cat flying ... and I nearly spilt my coffee, such was the shock. I mean, you just don't expect it.

While I was still in hiding and texting all my so called friends about my predicament [some unhelpful replies], the GOM stood in front of the window waving and grinning at him. A 'vision of loveliness' is not how I'd describe either of us first thing in the morning as we both sport Ken Dodd hairstyles and the un-ironed look [and I don't just mean our clothes] before we've been hosed down and reassembled. What a sight for the poor unsuspecting chap, but at least I was safely undercover so he only had one fright to contend with. I do hope he hasn't been mentally scarred for life ...

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