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, until the water ran out and we bravely (or foolishly) resorted to “alternative refreshments”. Refreshing, yes. Sensible? Debatable.

The morning itself went surprisingly well. David heroically tiled half the front, and they were straight enough to make a

spirit level weep with pride. Meanwhile, I turned engineer and repurposed our tired old tile chute into a fully-fledged “tile elevator”. After a spot of candle-wax lubrication, it was sliding packs of tiles upwards like a dream. In ten minutes, I’d shifted 40 tiles, at which point I declared myself worthy of an honorary degree in Heath Robinson engineering.

Lunch, alas, was spam sandwiches. No medal there.

Post-spam, we tackled the back fascia board for the guttering. David set about pre-painting while I had a restorative lie-down beneath the roof, nearly nodding off. Once dry, up it went, secured neatly, before we hoisted the final rafter into position. The first batten followed, then the careful measuring of the rest. As daylight gave up the ghost, I’ll admit I was rather pleased to do the same.

Dinner was a rerun of last night’s bar (still excellent), with a detour for “supplies”. Each of us walked away with a gargantuan chocolate bar, grand plans for a film, and visions of guilt-free indulgence. In reality, the chocolate disappeared in record time, and we were both out cold before 10 pm.