Southerly: Now I Am Permitted
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Welcome back - we've missed you.
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Thanks, Judi! It’s nice to be back, now that my fingers have unstiffened sufficiently to type. Next-up I shall be visiting SpecSavers so that I can read what I’ve written. (The problem is not so much my eyes, but that my arms are too short to reach my laptop when the screen is in focus.)
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And I should probably mention that Emma’s experience (ahem, possible slightly exaggerated in this account) actually makes her one of the luckier people in terms of her EQC inspection. If you’re interested you can read this hair-raising piece by a registered professional surveyor.
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"An 'ouse? an 'ouse? We didn't have an 'ouse. We lived in Doonsandel. With a toilet that weren't 'nected to the dreyin. But we were looky."
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Oh dear. Oh dear.
Emma Hart: [Emphatically]: That. Man. Is. Not. My. Husband.
I did pretty much say exactly that. It was not, I hasten to add, because of cumulative annoyance at the way David and I are unceasingly mistaken for a married couple, but because I had pretty much reached the 'slapping' stage of exasperation with Mr "That Was Already Like That".
We were lucky. One of the ways in which we were lucky was that we had our repairs done a bit under a year ago, before a few rule changes. My daughter's teacher is out of her house for repairs. The contractors did two days work on the job - enough to pull the house apart - and then walked off the job and haven't been back in the last three weeks. Not only that, but in a move quite typical of Chch Surrealism, they now deny ever having been there. Meanwhile, she's reaching the end of her agreed time to be out of the house, and her insurance company won't extend her accommodation payments.
I hate ants.
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Todays horrifying instalment made a deeply satisfying read. That such frustrating and disgusting set of circumstances can be so funny is rather brilliant.
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I am taking a break from building. You shall hear more soon.
Glad to see you can come up for air . Glad to read the hard graft has not diminished that all endearing sense of humour. Got any pics to share?
We may not have an indoor bathroom yet on our build but we made sure we have the toilet working properly. Bliss. -
I'm voluntarily having my house pulled apart around me and find it incredibly stressful. I can only imagine what having it done involuntarily and overseen by bureaucratic nutters would do to your heads...
That you haven't all bought torches and pitchforks and stormed parliament is a testament to your strength of character. Or to the lack of pitchforks.
Either way, well done.
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Jolisa, in reply to
A loo with a view! As opposed to David's loo with a peeee-yew.
Superb blog, David - always worth waiting for.
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David Haywood, in reply to
Glad you liked it, Scott!
Emma Hart wrote:
I hate ants
Very sorry to hear about your daughter’s teacher’s horrifying situation. Not to accuse you of anything, but are you quite sure that it wasn’t you who dismantled her house? After all, if a proper EQC assessor thinks that you have the strength to bend a steel door without noticing, then leaping a few kilometres through the air and pulling a wooden house to bits is entirely plausible.
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David Haywood, in reply to
Got any pics to share?
Alas no, I still have to get the final finishing touches done–but will have in due course.
In other news, I put down 37.5 tonnes of pavers and had not a twinge of back pain. Can anyone explain how this is possible when I can’t sit in a chair for ten minutes without being in agony?
Jolisa Gracewood wrote:
Superb blog, David – always worth waiting for.
Thanks, matey! Your kind words are very much appreciated. Still feeling very rusty and nervous on the writing front (and not just the OOSy fingers).
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When I met the pair of you, standing mere inches apart, in a defensive huddle, standing conspicuously near a structural beam, I didn't think "married". I thought "more complicated than that".
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Emma Hart, in reply to
“more complicated than that”.
The last time this Amusing Error arose, when a Prominent Christchurchian described us as a "talented family", what I said was, "We're not... *sigh*." What my brain suggested was, "You think I'm good, you should see his other wife."
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Russell Brown, in reply to
I’m voluntarily having my house pulled apart around me and find it incredibly stressful. I can only imagine what having it done involuntarily and overseen by bureaucratic nutters would do to your heads…
Exactly the same thing has occurred to me, in a similar position.
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BenWilson, in reply to
There must be a way to make it work for both of you. Some tax-fiddle, perhaps?
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I know a build must be different to a pull-apart but my biggest stress is where the new couch is going, and now the new sideboard ;)
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It turns out that a gang of plasterers has roughly the same digestive throughput as herd of diarrhoea-stricken elephants.
Sweet Jesus. It's actually bad enough having one's sole home toilet used in the morning by a team of tradesmen when it's actually connected to the sewerage system.
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BenWilson, in reply to
At the UoA there's big signs on all the science block toilets saying tradesmen are not to use them. Are they especially punishing on toilets for some bizarre reason?
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so these 'permits' you have received they weren't issued by, um, some local government outfit in Christchurch were they, are they all ( and I mean ALL, for the entire city) eventually going to need to be done again
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David Haywood, in reply to
Sweet Jesus.
Yes, there was a second or two when I was on the cusp of prayer. 'The miracle of the cleansed faecal matter' or that sort of thing.
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Sacha, in reply to
currently refurbishing cardboard box
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David Haywood, in reply to
these ‘permits’ you have received they weren’t issued by, um, some local government outfit in Christchurch
No, thank God. Dunsandel is in Selwyn (so we're under the Selwyn District Council).
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Sacha, in reply to
Brilliant to read you again, sir. But how did you end up being responsible for other folk's shit? #notametaphor
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BenWilson, in reply to
If ever I have a disconnected toilet I shall make sure to put a bucket under the pipes just in case*. Although the idea of keeping a savage dog down there and feeding it little dangling scraps of meat has some appeal.
*Has the advantage that you can pick it up and give it back to the person responsible.
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Bart Janssen, in reply to
I put down 37.5 tonnes of pavers and had not a twinge of back pain. Can anyone explain how this is possible when I can’t sit in a chair for ten minutes without being in agony?
My guess, from agonizing personal experience, is that when putting down pavers you adopt good posture and use your core muscles to support your back. Any load is evenly and symmetrically distributed ... because if you try it any other way you can't bloody lift the pavers.
When you sit, my guess, again from personal experience, you relax and slouch, pushing your lower back into a curve that creates asymmetrical stress on your back pushing the discs slightly out of the space between your vertebrae and placing pressure on the nerves that exit the spine at that point. Eventually you create enough pressure that the nerves cause the muscles in your back to spasm, pulling your back further out of alignment and placing more pressure on the nerves resulting in excriciating pain that leaves you pathetically wibbling on the floor.
Short term solution, painkillers and anti inflammatories. Medium term solution, sit up straighter. Long term solution regular stretching and twisting exercises for the back that create more space and strengthen the muscles that support the spine.
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