Chickenfeed

Thurs 19 July 2012

For some reason woke at dawn and took pink photos of the site (see yesterday's post).  Put out food for the cats and watched the chickens come running.  They are very smart those chickens.  The cats seem a bit overwhelmed, especially by Megachuck.

All for you, my Plinth!

Weds 18 July 2012

No more hanging about, it seems.  The lads arrived early to get the shuttering finished.  The boss arrived and I asked him to organise the missing metalwork.  He asked one of the lads to do it, told me he'd be back with the concrete around 2 ish, then left.

Constantine arrived.  Looked around, agreed that we needed more metal.  Told one of the lads.  Then remembered he had to get a stamp from the police station on the permit, and left.

The windscreen repair people rang to say they were in town two days earlier than they'd said, and could I meet their repair man in Nidri.  I worried about the car and the repair van getting stuck one side or the other of a number of concrete vehicles and shot off to meet him, leaving the car and the repairer by the side of the road about 300 metres away from the site.  Then walked back uphill in the heat.

Constantine had not returned.  The concrete hadn't arrived.  The metal hadn't been fixed, but the lads were still finishing the shuttering, and our pallets around the compost heap had mysteriously disappeared.  I later found the site of disembodiment, a few splinters remaining, where they had been broken up to nail across the shuttering to stop it spreading when the concrete was poured.

The glass repair man rang to say he was finished only 30 minutes later, although the office had said he'd take 1.5 to 2 hours, so I belted off down the field again to sort that out.  I left the car there, out of the way, and walked back up the hill.

Still no Constantine.  Then it was 4 pm and the trucks started arriving.  I still didn't have metal where I wanted it.  I had scavenged around the site and found pieces to fit, but the broken pallet pieces were now spanning the gap that they had to go in.  The boss arrived.  I jumped up and down a bit, and he shouted at the lads and they pulled the wood back off, fitted the metal and stood back, seconds before the concrete started pouring.  Whoops!

It took about 30 minutes to fill the plinth.  Then they all left.  The pouring arm truck has a reservoir of about a cubic metre that can't be sucked up, and we had asked for this to be dropped on the track where it has worn away during the winter rains, so I grabbed a spade and set off after the truck.  He dropped it where I asked.  There's a lot of concrete in a cubic metre, and it's very soggy.  Terrified of overbalancing and ending up like some mafia victim, I shoveled frantically to distribute the heap into the ruts before it set.  Stinging sweat dripped into my eyes.

Then I set about watering the plinth.  Then I had a cold shower.  Then I collapsed on the decking sofa.  And THEN Dave chose to return - complaining about a hard day at work (motoring to Kioni and back).

Amateur Boatbuilding

17 July 2012

I had some things to drop off around Vlicho bay in Geni, so I took the opportunity to call in on some friends, Rowan, Paris and Connor, recently qualified art students, who live over that way.  They were engaged in building boats, variously from a book or the internet. Hugely enterprising.

 Rowan and Paris' open Canadian canoe, made of strips of sapele wood, ready for varnishing.

Connor's Dory, an American fishing classic.

Someday my Plinth will come ...

Tuesday 17 July 2012

They were back bright and early on Tuesday, taking the shuttering off the foundation block and positioning it around the plinth that stands upright on top of it.  Nice easy day, they finished around 2pm with the job looking nearly done.  I rang Constantine and said I was concerned that the reinforcing steel didn't reach right to the ends where the plinth is extended to hold up the roof pillars.  I had mentioned this several times to several people, in pidgin Greek, and they had all nodded and smiled and humoured me.  I'd also had to get them to move the stopper ends further back, because they'd shuttered up to where the metal stopped (back to front thinking, there).  Constantine said not to worry, they weren't going to pour the next bit for some days and he'd stop by before then.

They'd told me they were pouring tomorrow, around 2 pm.

Dave had positioned a waste drainage pipe for the shower and/or bath below floor level through the plinth.  On four separate occasions I had to retrieve the pipe from where it had been moved out of the way while they put up shuttering and then forgot to put it back.  The final time I stood over one of the lads while he hacked into the shuttering to make a space for it.  Then tapped my feet until it was securely wired in place.  Phew!  How come Dave is always away skippering when things kick into action?

All at once

Monday 16 July 2012

Just like buses, nothing happens for ever then three come at once.  Monday started unpropitiously.  Dave was off on a day-skipper charter for the week, and was in a pre-work twitch about what his guests would be like and what they would want, so I attempted to distract him by suggesting he use the slingshot on one of the roaming cats that come to steal left-over cat food.  The pebble (which never hits the cats) ricocheted off the drive and tapped my back windscreen.  A second frozen in time, then it crazed and fell in.  Dave was even less relaxed when he went off to work!

So I got on with the washing, but was surprised to hear chainsaws around lunch time.  The chainsaw season is well over (January), so I wondered what was going on, until I saw the first of the concrete trucks arriving (they were chainsawing clearance down the track - regardless of land ownership - it's all very blase:

 Squeezed in between conifers in front of the camper van,

 the stabilising arm only just fit in front of the Zone (I didn't think those panels were going to make it!).

 Megachuck taking cover

 Then the second truck - the mixer - arrived

 and started a multi-point turn to come in backwards

 some time later ...

 even more time, sweat, and moving our old rib, later ... (oh, and look through the trees, number two mixer has already arrived.  I had a fit of giggles at this point!).

 Finally in position.

 Getting the pouring arm in place

 The wellie man has a horrid job in this weather - he slooshed out those boots inside and out when he was done.

The first layer was done by 2 pm and everyone left to siesta.  My job was to water the concrete to stop it cracking.  My limited Greek understood that this was to be done 'for 4 hours'.  When I rang Constantine he said it was to be done 'every 4 hours'.  I tried putting a sprinkler on it, but it kept blowing off, so I got soaked more than the concrete, but at least I didn't crack!

More Tipota

Then nothing happened again.  I rang Constantine and asked when they might pour the concrete and he said when it gets cooler, so I replied, about two months, then?  and he said, No.  Which didn't really tell us much.  So we went back to being unstressed about it all.

Sweltering in the heat now.  Over 36 degrees during the day, and no respite - only the hut with two fans on, trying to siesta in the afternoon.  Roll on cob walls - we need you.  The chickens are collapsed panting under the hut, clucking in annoyance at intervals.

Iron at last

Weds 4 July 2012

We were just thinking about getting up around 8ish Wednesday morning, when we heard a lot of motorbike engines coming down the track - the iron men had arrived!  They got stuck into the job, and by 3 o'clock thursday our site looked like this: