Saturday 4 June 2011
It was now the beginning of June, and my plan had been to get all the boatyard work done, and Tropi ready for the season by the end of April, and then have the summer months to write. Of course, it hadn't worked out like that. I'd had one day on the yacht in Poros during our 2 weeks away, and scraped up another day since to type up what I'd scribbled then. (After the Panto earlier in the year, I foolishly suggested that I might write the next one. I said I'd give it a go, and if I didn't have something for the Director to consider by the end of June, then they could go elsewhere and no-one would lose out.)
I now had a week before we were off to the UK for my mother's 80th birthday. But it was dawning on me that it wasn't so easy just to sit and write when you live in a field. The camper van was becoming uncomfortably hot by 10am (eventually we'll put a framework for shade and growing things on the South end, but just haven't had the time yet). While the decking was now a fraught battlefield of horseflies, houseflies and mosquitoes. 'Living the Dream' indeed!
So I planned a writing space: about 2 metres square, in fact, cubed - floorboards underfoot, but only insect netting on the other five sides, with a roof or other cover for shade. And went off for wood.
I started trying to level the ground - a major, thankless task with the heat, the horseflies and the hard, gravelly ground - but then Dave suggested that I just level a space for each of the four legs, and stand them on broken paving slabs. a good idea, and a great relief.
So I cut and framed up the floor joists, fixing every other joist in place, to minimise the weight of the construction.
And then used the base to stabilise the uprights. It was all a bit of a juggling act, even with Dave's help, but we ended up with something not too far out of true.
It was now the beginning of June, and my plan had been to get all the boatyard work done, and Tropi ready for the season by the end of April, and then have the summer months to write. Of course, it hadn't worked out like that. I'd had one day on the yacht in Poros during our 2 weeks away, and scraped up another day since to type up what I'd scribbled then. (After the Panto earlier in the year, I foolishly suggested that I might write the next one. I said I'd give it a go, and if I didn't have something for the Director to consider by the end of June, then they could go elsewhere and no-one would lose out.)
I now had a week before we were off to the UK for my mother's 80th birthday. But it was dawning on me that it wasn't so easy just to sit and write when you live in a field. The camper van was becoming uncomfortably hot by 10am (eventually we'll put a framework for shade and growing things on the South end, but just haven't had the time yet). While the decking was now a fraught battlefield of horseflies, houseflies and mosquitoes. 'Living the Dream' indeed!
So I planned a writing space: about 2 metres square, in fact, cubed - floorboards underfoot, but only insect netting on the other five sides, with a roof or other cover for shade. And went off for wood.
I started trying to level the ground - a major, thankless task with the heat, the horseflies and the hard, gravelly ground - but then Dave suggested that I just level a space for each of the four legs, and stand them on broken paving slabs. a good idea, and a great relief.
So I cut and framed up the floor joists, fixing every other joist in place, to minimise the weight of the construction.
And then used the base to stabilise the uprights. It was all a bit of a juggling act, even with Dave's help, but we ended up with something not too far out of true.
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