The more observant amongst you may have noticed that I haven’t posted for a while.  Partly to do with Covid, and how it has slowed everything down, including supplies.  Partly to do with me having a shoulder which has prevented me from typing for a while.  But, that’s another story.  Related to a fall I had back in the early noughties, on a dark and stormy night at Quamby when we still ran a B&B, and the guests were late and as they were bringing a dog with them we went out with our dogs when we heard their car.  My dog pulled hard on her lead, I slipped in the mud and went under the car wheels.  Fortunately the car was stationery at the time but the driver thought he had run over me.  In order to relieve his anxiety, I got up straight away and put on a brave face, which is infinitely more attractive than my usual face.  But I knew immediately that I had injured my knee, and indeed I had torn the meniscus.  A bit of day surgery helped but not for long enough and in 2012 I had a total knee replacement.  Which failed.  I had a revision in 2014.  Which failed.  I had another revision in 2016.  Which was not fully successful.  It’s me.  Not the surgeon.  He is the best knee surgeon in Australia. I know that because he told me so. It seems my body only likes 24 carat gold, which they don’t use for prostheses, even though they charge for it.  By now, my balance was completely compromised, even before the ingestion of any shiraz.  And just to prove it I fell in a caravan park in Swan Hill in 2018 and broke both my ankles.  Ankles are now pretty much repaired and 18 months of Pilates has helped the balance somewhat.  But not enough.  In October last I fell at home.  It seems I might have tripped on a piece of cotton on the floor.  Certainly nothing as challenging as a matchstick.  It was morning time, so please don’t question my sobriety.  Anyway, I tore the rotator cuff – a massive tear they call it.  “You’ll need surgery” they said.  I refused.  I’ve had enough.  I refused for 9 months.  Eventually it was evident they were right and I was wrong.  That is not a position I am generally accustomed to.  After auditioning three orthopods, all of whom agreed that the rotator cuff was irreparable and a total replacement was the go, I chose a nice young man who has a PhD as well as an MBBS.  I was impressed by that, especially as his doctorate had something to do with shoulders.  Anyway, just over three weeks ago he gave me a total reverse shoulder replacement with associated bone grafts.  Now I’m completely magnetic, but only on the right side and I’m not talking politics.  But, as I say, that’s another story.

I am in a sling as I type.  The speed typing has slowed for a while.  So has blogging.  So has building. 

The last reported the frame going up.  We have made progress.

Finally we took delivery of enough framing timber

The wind is forecast to come up, so just to be sure the house is tied down

Any of you who were in Hong Kong with me in the early 80s with the STC’s CHICAGO might be reminded of the steel set being welded to coat hangers on the back wall of the theatre.  This is about as sturdy

The frames survived the winds and the LVLs (builder speak for roofing beams) which were manufactured in WA since they are usually imported, made their way across the Nullarbor. 

These are heavy beggars,  so we asked our wonderful neighbour, Mollie, if we might access the rear of our block through her back garden.  It’s not really a garden, just lawn.  Mollie agreed so the track was laid

And the LVLs arrived and were installed

All supervised by our very compliant builder

However the truck dug up the lawn to an embarrassing extent

Given the state of the track, the decision was made to reinforce the access.

First it’s dug out a bit

Then the Geotech cloth laid

Then the gravel laid

Cripes.  We’ve got Highway 23 (we are 23 Albert St)

 Mollie is a treasure.  We take her a bottle of wine (she likes red) and a bucket full of apologies.  She appears to be sanguine about it, even suggested she might install a toll gate.  Mollie says she is just happy to have good neighbours.  If only she knew.  We will, of course, make good at the end of the build.  But that’s a way away yet.

The next step is the steel posts and beams.  Is that a truck I spy, hurtling up Highway 23?

The steel posts are craned off

And all steel posts installed in a day.  

Are we a pair of nuts?

The next day a bigger crane comes with the steel beams

And it fits

As do they all

Ooh look, there’s Woodhill

It’s a seriously exciting roof line.  It will make sense to you when you see the house.

For now all the beams are in and we await a roof.  We’ve been awaiting a roof for a week.

 They say it will arrive.

They say lockdown will finish soon too.