30th September 2013  Another early start under a sky that threatened rain but instead served up yet another blistering scorcher. This was supposed to be the grand finale of our tiling saga, but the day quickly veered off course, thanks to the heat, fatigue, and some questionable past decisions coming back to haunt us. David… Continue Reading

29th September 2013  Another dawn alarm, this time to get ahead of the forecast rain, which of course arrived on schedule at 11 am, just as we were both balanced on the roof. I was laying laths on the side section while David was grinding tiles along the apex. A brisk shower left us both… Continue Reading

28th September 2013 With rain threatening in a couple of days, we were up at the crack of dawn and stayed on the roof until the light got so poor that hammering nails became a sort of blindfold darts. Yesterday’s heat had nearly roasted us alive, so David kindly lent me a more ventilated hat.… Continue Reading

27th September 2013 Today somehow managed to outdo yesterday in the “blistering heat” category. By midday, the roof had turned into a cast-iron frying pan, while the ladders doubled as hand-searing radiators. The black roofing felt? Touch it and you’d come away with fingers cooked rare. Frequent water breaks slowed us to a pensioner’s shuffle,… Continue Reading

26th September 2013 Full sun on a roof isn’t exactly paradise, unless your paradise involves sweat trickling into unmentionable places, a vocabulary of industrial-strength expletives, and a constant fear of plummeting. We began full of optimism, lining up the metal edging to frame the end tiles. First came the fiddly layering of bitumen beneath, then… Continue Reading

25th September 2013 We indulged in a rare lie-in until 9 a.m., only to emerge into a day that was already blustery enough to keep things “interesting.” By the time we’d made it up to the roof at 11 am, the wind was whistling through every gap it could find and treating us like reluctant… Continue Reading

24th September 2013 We wake up thinking of roofs. We spend all day talking about roofs. We go to bed and, without doubt, dream of roofs. Back in the UK, roofs are refreshingly sensible affairs: standardised timbers, precision machining, and construction methods that might even make an architect smile. Bulgarian roofs? Entirely different animal. Here,… Continue Reading

23rd September 2013 The sun had popped his hat on and beamed down cheerily until mid-afternoon, when a troupe of dark, brooding clouds shuffled onto the stage. David swore blind it would rain; I declared it wouldn’t; Banjo, zen master of the household, remained serenely indifferent. I was right, of course. (Not that I mentioned… Continue Reading

22nd September 2013 Saturday dawned indecently early, thanks to Banjo and his unerring 5 a.m. bladder alarm. Ever the gent, he slipped back in afterwards without ceremony, curled into a cosy nest at the foot of the bed, and left me in peace. My next awakening was courtesy of David, bearing coffee in one hand… Continue Reading

21st September 2013 The evening didn’t quite pan out as expected. Halfway through the video, Thor, David drifted off, and an early night seemed inevitable. I was just settling into bed, Banjo contentedly working away at his paws at the foot, when the “sleeping” David exploded into my room shouting, “It’s P**ing it down outside!”*… Continue Reading