Impending Doom

Our planning appeal, which may just see us able to build a house here instead of sitting in the caravan twiddling our thumbs, has been rumbling slowly through the works for nearly twelve months now.

Somewhere deep in a search on the Planning Inspectorate website, there is a page that we have been checking on a daily basis for most of this year. The latest update finally gives us a date for our hearing - and suggests that if we're really lucky we might have a decision by the end of the year.

Appeal accepted	Questionnaire	Statements & representations	Final comments	Site Visit	Decision
Start date: 20 Feb 2007	Due date: 6 Mar 2007	Due date: 3 Apr 2007	Due date: 24 Apr 2007	Date: 4 Dec 2007	Date: Not decided

Cross your fingers for us, please.

Autumn's Coming

 

I Can See a Floor In These Plans

 

Above, there is clearly visible a floor that isn't there. The not-there floor affords visitors to the caravan a fine view of the ground below. It isn't there because I spent yesterday repeatedly hitting it with a big hammer. The hammer attack was very theraputic, but my mental well being (already under question) wasn't the issue.

The real reason for the vandalism was that our shower has never been entirely water tight. The escaping water has spread into the floor around the bathroom - in particular the hallway. Unfortunately, being made out of MDF the floor soaks up water as though it was in a kitchen towel advert and then starts sagging between the joists. As the job of fixing it was going to be a dirty, fiddly day of grubbing around under the caravan I must confess I put it off. After all, the carpet has been doing a fine job of taking our weight when the floor below it had given up.

 

A day later and here's the new floor. No more sags, no more unexpected bounciness to your step as you go through the hall. It's going to take a while to get used to it really.

As a welcome side effect, William now believes I'm Bob The Builder.

Retrospective Blog..

 

Harvest came and went surprisingly suddenly this year and shortly afterwards we zoomed up to Scotland to visit 'Ness parents so this event went uncommented:

Like any small boy, William loves big tractors (almost as much as train!, train! and hello airplane!). So when the combine came to do the field next to us, I took him out to watch them setting it up. To my great shame in the two years we've been here, I've not managed to say hello to the guys that farm the fields next to us. So I took the opportunity to say hello to Gary (bossman) and Rob (combine driver) whilst William attempted to take the wheel off one of the trailers.

As the combine was about to set off, Gary kindly asked "Does he (William) want to have a ride?". He's only two, and wouldn't remember it so we didn't want to get in their way as they got on with the job. Despite telling him this, Gary was insistent that it wasn't any trouble and stopped Rob. Of course Will would love to sit in any vehicle he can, so we found ourselves climbing into the cab for a ride (glass enclosed and air-conditioned - it wasn't like that when I was a lad).

Rob was wonderful (his grandson is also two, so I suspect he knows) and happily worked his way around the field with two extra passengers. William sat on my lap on his best behaviour - he didn't once ask for the keys - and stared down at the machinery below us. He loved the experience and I couldn't be more grateful for our little trip.

Of course, as predicted, the next day Will had no recollection of where he had been, but I've got the photo to show him when he's older.