Concrete evidence

29 September 2013

The latest update from France is that the plumber has been and gone and the pipework has been amended as we asked.

Tom and team have put down the steel reinforcement for the concrete floor (no pic, sadly), and the concrete floor has been laid. All went according to plan, apparently.

Check out that sunbeam from the Velux window in the roof!

He has decided to cast a concrete wall plate on the top of the wall overlooking the neighbour's shed, in order to consolidate the wall where the stones were loose and also to give a firm base for filling in the gap on that side. I guess that means we will be able to see a concrete layer when it is finished; perhaps not a bad thing.

Now that the base is in, all the heights can be calculated and they can begin to address the knock-throughs.
First on the agenda is the rotten lintel on the main barn opening.  Apparently, the carpenter (Phil) has  the oak door frame all ready to go in, so there's no reason to delay any further on that.

I don't think any of us is looking forward to that part of the project. When we were on site, it seemed that whenever there was a lull, I'd notice one or two of the guys looking up at the offending lintel, lost in thought. Tom assures us that he has replaced many a lintel in his time, but - not so reassuring - he reckons ours is the most challenging so far and he hopes that 'we don't lose too much stone work'.

Ulp.

Damp-proof membrane and insulation. Warm and dry, remember?

17 September 2013

Tom's second photo update has arrived and it looks as if there has been a fair amount of progress.

Lovely shot of the neighbour's shed. But it also shows that the veluxes are in, and that the roof tiling (at time of taking the photos) was almost done...

...and the zinc gutters and downpipes are in place. She's almost watertight (if you ignore the large barn door opening at the front!).

Following on from last week, when we raised an issue with the placement of the kitchen drain (too close to the shower room wall), we are waiting to hear that the plumber has moved said pipework...

In the meantime, as the photos below illustrate, the damp proof membrane is down, and the under-floor insulation has been laid. I don't know if it's just me that is aware of a slight hiccup in the order of events...(see note about kitchen drain above).

 It looks tiny! But perfect.

Brian the electrician has been in, too, and has laid conduits and cabling under the floor, which should tidy up the future downstairs ceiling somewhat.

All being well, and plumber variables sorted in time, the concrete goes down this week.

Happy news times two

8 September 2013

At last, a cheery email from Tom with the happy news that their baby has arrived safely and that our baby is progressing nicely. The good weather has held and the roof tiling is nearly done.



The roof is looking great! And it's obvious now that replacing those old uneven rafters was a good call.

We have chosen to go with the heavier-duty Spanish slate tiles, which are thick and robust and not dissimilar to the local Ardoise tiles that we had on the old roof. Their edges don't look machine-cut; they look kind of 'nibbled'.

Of course, what makes this kind of tiling different from the original is that the tiles are all the same size and they are attached with hooks, rather than nails, so they are less likely to fly off in a storm. Also, only one-third of each tile is exposed to the elements and Tom is confident that they are there to stay. After the series of roof-smashing violent hailstorms we witnessed this summer, that is reassuring.

And Tom knows his roofs: he is a self-confessed 'tile-geek'.

I love the detail on the gable ends.

The plumber has dug his trenches and has laid the outlet pipes for the shower room and kitchen...although G and I are not too happy with the placement of the kitchen pipe. It looks too far to the left and may have to be altered before the concrete goes down.

OK, so you would really have to have been there to understand that photo. It makes perfect sense to us.  And it's a lovely one of the wheelbarrow, I think we'd all agree.

Next, I gather, is the preparation work for the concrete slab. Watch this space... 

Pregnant pause

Mid-Aug to September 2013

Home again and getting - albeit reluctantly - back into the swing of things at work rapidly pushes our lovely holiday into the realms of historical fiction. Added to which, we are in suspension, waiting for an update from the builder. We have to be patient, as Tom and Ellie are expecting their second child any day now and we all discussed how the work on the barn would need to take a back seat for a couple of weeks until baby got settled...

So. It's all good. There's no hurry. No pressure. It's the French countryside, for Pete's sake - nothing is going to happen at speed there. It's practically against the law...and unheard of in August.

Da dum, da dum, da dum.

OCD overtones as we check our emails yet again for the first update from Tom.

Nada. Nix. Zilch. Zero. Absolutely nothing. Not a sausage.

Four weeks on a building site

July 2013

Driving up to the barn from the direction of C, we rounded the corner and looked up to see scaffolding against the long outside wall of the barn and a bloke on the roof. It was such an exciting moment. It meant that, at last, the renovations were underway! It meant that the project was now a reality not only for us, but for others, too.

Greg and his step-son were busy removing the old tiles from the roof, exposing the rafters and allowing sunlight to flood into the barn below. The upper floor (a motley collection of boards) had already been removed, so the interior space was now double height and cathedral-like with shafts of sunlight illuminating the walls and floor. I couldn't get enough of it, and took lots of photos.

Once we'd made the initial introductions and mooched about, re-connecting with the place, it was time for  a cup of tea. Naturally. And with a team of English builders, we were among like-minded people.

An initial delivery of new Spanish tiles - neatly packaged cut end up - sat in the entrance to the barn and provided a convenient surface for the kettle (plugged into the neighbour's power supply), long-life milk, tea bags, cups and the builders' cigarettes, keys and other paraphernalia. Water came courtesy a high-pressure hose which emerged rather oddly from the ground just inside the barn. Cups were in short supply - and grimy with building site muck, which only I seemed to recoil from - so our 2 mugs and 2 glass jars were a welcome addition.

Work proceeded at a steady, slow pace. The heat was ever-present. "La Canicule, c'est formidable!"

Tom disappeared up north on about Day #2 when he heard of a 6.5 m length of seasoned oak that would suit our central beam (in fact three beams, two of which needed replacement). In order to get the new beam (now split in two, lengthways) into position, a hole had to be created on each side wall.

Then, with much planning, quiet discussion and careful manoevring, the team managed to lift and cajole the two new beams into position on either side of the original central beam.

It was tense stuff, but I don't suppose it was ever in danger of collapsing round our ears (despite the dark looks and muttered warnings of the neighbours).

Greg spent the best part of a day repairing the stone walls, until it was impossible to see where the hole had been. A real test of stonemasonry, if ever there was one.

G and I felt the need to get our hands dirty and work on something, rather than simply sit around watching the others, so we spent the best part of two hot days creating a level terraced area under the walnut tree. It was designed to be large enough for either a tent or a table and chairs, and it seemed the perfect spot for midsummer: in almost permanent dappled shade, breezy, and with a nice view of the valley.

On a couple of occasions, I washed our clothes in a bucket and hung them to dry on a line strung between the walnut tree and the closest apple tree. Somehow, the flapping of laundry made me feel as if it was Home. (Note the typical scenario - G on the phone, lunch baguette peeking from the shopping bag.)

Desperate to DO something with my hands - restless soul - I got going on creating some stone steps for the outside of the dependance. It has always been an awkward scramble, getting in and out, not helped by the fact that the door is small and requires you to duck! Added to which, the bright red conduit pipe for future electrical connection to the dependance for some reason came up right at the entrance to the driveway - an eyesore as well as a perfect target for reversing cars. I decided to do my best to bury it.

I managed to unearth a fair number of likely stones in situ, and added more where there were none.  I tried to dig down below the wall, thinking I could feed the red pipe under and then up inside the building, but it seeemed to be solid rock, so I gave up and fed it through a small hole in the wall.



Ta da! I know that it's far from elegant, but it's a darn sight better than it was!

"Rough but it'll dae!"

Next on site came the replacement of the old, wiggly and uneven rafters. We have been told that they were made of whatever wood came to hand, and I could believe that. Some of the old rafters were even made of two pieces, lashed together. But the new rafters will make the new roof lie beautifully and there will be no kinks.

In the pic above, the new rafters are in, their lower ends stained and treated, and the position of the two Velux windows can be seen. The laying of the state-of-the-art 16-layer insulation on top has begun on the left hand side of the roof, with counter-battens (on the outside so not visible here) holding it in place. Of course, when the other side of the roof was completed, all that lovely interior sunlight was obliterated again.

Roll on window and door penetrations.