Köttbullar

I have been witnessed saying that I will never go back to Ikea - in fact all of the Ikea furniture that had survived since our 'young couple' days was either burnt or given away when the old house was demolished.
But humble pie tastes good and italian designer kitchens are for boom times. When the budget's stretched and you have the intention to DIY, Ikea does present the ideal solution of a system that takes everything into consideration at a reasonable price (no I'm not sponsored...yet).

So off we went, bravely.

It's not up there with moving house, or getting married/divorced or renewing your expired carte de séjour or any of those other traumatic life experiences, but it's not far off. A Sunday buying your flat packed kitchen from Ikea is up there in the top 20.
When we arrived, smugly clutching our Ikea Home Planner printout, with 20 minutes to spare before opening time, we were quickly taken down a notch by the sight of a good two dozen brave souls already installed in an orderly queue before the entrance. These people must be the experts. They had that hardened look of those that have seen frontline action before. They had what it takes. They hadn't gone for that extra 5 minutes in bed after the alarm went off, or that second cup of coffee. When the doors finally opened our worst fears were confirmed. We followed blindly behind, realising that we were in fact like new born lambs to the whole thing. These people before us, bunched up in a fast moving scrum and rapidly disappearing behind a distant line of Billies, had already discovered the Swedish furniture shop equivalent of the Northwest Passage. Borrowing routes previously only known to the yellow and blue clad indigens they led us on a trail behind 'babychange facility', across '25m² studio for cash strapped student', through 'finance waiting' directly to Faktum Land and a numbered ticket. All this without the use of any visible hand held navigation system. (GPS doesn't get a signal in Ikea).
From the front door stampede at 10am to the obligatory post trauma cup of tea it was 7 hours of hell without the help of a phrase book or even a break for a reindeer burger.
The overall experience was akin to having been the unwitting victim of a Walace and Gromit style assembly line without the advantage of a conveyor belt.
Eventually we were spat out onto a 1 in 8 loading bay ramp with 250Kilos of flat pack on a runaway trolley in search of our hire van.

The Client drove, and I was Mr Shifter.

Don't forget to tighten the screws.

ticking over

Not getting the respect you deserve at home? take some advice:

Man Tools

Remember it'll soon be Xmas.

Wave goodbye

This is the last photo taken before the larger than expected wave took me by surprise and permanently compromised the circuitry of my camera.

This, amongst other things, in part explains the recent lack of posting.

Interior joinery is now underway. The Skater has a partition and door to his room. A real kitchen has been promised for Xmas. The actual kitchen is made up of IKEA 'faktum' base units with no doors, which prompted the following heartfelt sarcastic comment from one architect’s SO (significant other) that visited recently: ‘oh, you’ve got an architect designed kitchen!.

The first furniture has been ordered by The Client. She has white card (carte blanche - ours avec moi) on choice and colour – the trade off for giving The Architect a free hand on the house itself. A lot of self doubt has been expressed since the order went in but I’m sure it’ll be just fine. We have 8 weeks to wait.

hot off the press

The scaffolding team arrive at seven. They are five. I am one. It is twenty going on thirty....


The scaffolding is attached to the house with an anchor every 20 square metres. As the façade progressed I worked around the anchors leaving holes in first the insulation and then the timber cladding. These holes now need to be filled as the scaffolding is taken down. So I fill in the missing bits as the scaffolding comes down around around my ears. My terra firma for the last 4 months starts swaying like an enormous jelly. I'm so used to my giant solid steel shelving system that the first time it sways I swear blind I'm pushing the house over with the screw I'm driving home.

By three all is finished.....

Everyone, with the exception of the cat, is pleased to see the scaffolding go.

It's just like unwrapping a big birthday present. The Skater says its 'futurist'. I think he really meant to say 'modern' and is not referring to the triumph of speed and technology over nature in early twentieth century Italy. But one never can tell with The Skater.

The Client will be pleased.

Stay tuned. This is not the end.

Roll of drums

Scaffolding coming down soon - just put in the request. One more weekend of up and down the ladders like an early version of Donkey Kong and it's all over. Well, at least the façade.
Unfortunately no respite in sight for The Architect as The Skater has put in an urgent request for a wall and door for his bedroom.
Really, the cheek, when I was a lad we had to make do with...........

Beige?

Saturday morning at 7 am work starts on rendering the end wall (or 'pignon' in French). The end wall is in 20cm clay insulating bricks with an internal insulation, so it needs a render finish to make it weather tight and finish it off.

The render is projected onto the wall under pressure with a flexible hose from the compresser parked in the street. The compresser makes an infernal noise so communication is impossible without shouting very loudly, which the team of 4 builders manages very well. My command of portugese being limited to approximate interpretations of menus, I presume they are only shouting important instructions about the pressure regulation or the mix of sand and cement in order to spare the neighbours as much as possible an unpleasant awakening. I suspect, however that they are more likely discussing a football match or the events of the previous evening.
By the beginning of the afternoon the work is finished and a calm, broken only by the sound of distant DIY, returns to the neighbourhood.

The English Neighbour admires the work and asks when it's going to be painted beige like all the other houses in the quarter. I presume she's just teasing me and smile back....or maybe she really thinks I'd paint something beige?

The timber cladding is finished. All that remains are the fibre cement panels.

Photos to follow when the tropical rain forest effect weather ceases.

Progress slow

Progress on the cladding is slow. Rear façade 50%. Front façade 80%.
The render to the end wall is programmed for the end of the week. Passers by stop and watch. Cars slow down. Lots of questions. Neighbours chart the progress and comment on my form for the day. The Client likes it - but can't wait till it turns grey. The Skater hasn't noticed anything different - maybe I should post it for him on facebook?