The reason for all this mayhem is the discovery that the winter (and summer) rains of 2 years have gently eaten away at the wood of the walls and floor, and have caused the canvasses from which the door decorations were made, to split and curl. Something had to give.
So, the last few days have seen me busy with hammer, chisel, saw and screwdriver (not to mention gloves, brush, rake and trowel) hacking away at the rotten wood and squeamishly chucking the huge slugs gorging themselves on the interiors of the doors, on to the lawn for the birds to eat.
I have received one old door, one piece of hardboard fastened to an ancient wooden frame, two sturdy planks and the promise of two more ill-assorted doors, from which to recreate my/our masterpiece. This is an exercise in valiant optimism that bears no relation whatsoever to the abilities of the vicar or myself – or, come to that, to the ‘road-worthiness’ of our tools.
There is a delay on some of the promised wood, so I watch the weather with eagle eye and trust that I shall either a) do enough of the renovation work to be sufficiently water-tight before the next rain, or b) remember where I have put the tarpaulins and fix them in place ahead of the next rain.
Judging by previous experience, neither of these scenarios is particularly likely. So, smile and carry on!
I am trying to do as much of the work as I can ahead of turning to OV for help, as whenever we work ‘together’ it always creates a certain amount of tight-lipped politeness as we fail to communicate ‘left’, ‘right’, ‘up’, ‘down’ and ‘gently’ – resulting in wood fixed haphazardly in various odd places at the cost of bruised toes and trapped fingers.
Don’t you just love DIY?