The old house was placed under a general anesthetic Saturday morning in preparation for some major work. The old thing did not put up much of a fight and by the time the countdown reached 97 it was well and truly out for the count.
The surgery started with a large hole being cut in the rear fence to allow trailers and bob-cats ready access (I presume this is some form of kitty with manly aspirations). The hole created was covered up with temporary fencing. Like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound.
And then the major work began: de-plastering.
The Old House was put up to last using the old style of lath and plaster. A pox on whoever it was who thought it would be a good idea. Not only does the plaster have to come down but every single goddam one of the lathers has to come down too. And every nail. Even the nails that the apprentice banged in wonky. Even the nails that lost their heads. A POX!
I'd also like to find who thought it would be cool to cover the front room with newspapers and Woman's Weekly's from 1959 over the baltic timber boards before laying down some green lino. If there is still some pox left, a pox on you too. Not because it is time-consuming to remove or anything, but for crimes against aesthetics. What were you thinking you tight-ass bastard? Although it made for some interesting reading.
Over the two days the front three rooms were all de-plastered and about a third of the passage. The kindly Masters of the [Building] Universe stayed on an extra day to finish the passage, destroy the kitchen and remove all the waste from Sunday-Monday. An early trip was made to a local tip Sunday morning to dispose of Saturday's waste.
On Monday the exhausted owners returned to their day jobs for some respite and healing.
More work will continue next weekend as the remaining rooms are de-plastered and de-lathed.
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