A Boy Called Debbie

I've got a lot to learn on the building site. Normally I function as Kevin's 'boy', being shown what to do and how to do it. Kevin is extremely kind and patient. He has to be, because I am a numbskull. Perseverance usually brings success, but with many 'fails' along the way.

Yesterday, Kevin showed me how to make a wall, and a vital skill introduced here was how to use a screw gun. It's not really a gun; it's a battery drill with a screw bit in. Handily, the screw bit comes with the box of screws, so it's just the right size. But why is it called a gun? A nail gun is more gun-like, but it's actually more like a stapler, if we're honest, isn't it? Is it a 'men and guns' thing? 

Well, here is the wall I put together. Here are also some close-ups of Kevin's example of a correctly placed screw, and two of my early attempts. I did get better. Sometimes, if you let it go in too far, you have to make another attempt. I would have thought that screwing in a screw with a battery drill was easy peasy, but it turned out to be quite an art. Kevin told me, 'Zip, zip, that's all it takes'. I found myself saying 'Zip, zip' as I put in my screws. It helped.

I am still amazed at what the insulation did... It did say 220mm on the roll, but look at it in its roll form- it looks thin! I was open-mouthed as I witnessed its puffed up form once released! Even Kevin was surprised. It may be a bit too puffy for the walls, but it'll certainly be great for the roof.

Lime mortar and sand is our favoured mix for filling in the holes we make. Usually it is advisable to wear gloves when using it, as it is not great for the skin. I forget that little detail today, and, what with handling great sheets of plasterboard, all of the moisture has been sucked out of my hands. I can't let this happen again! I don't want to do anything to hasten the ageing process. 

I'll let you see what my hand looks like once they've returned to normal, just so that you can appreciate how very mummified I currently am. They WILL return to normal, won't they?


SOME OF OUR LITTLE HELPERS

Kevin lets me use this to cut wood. I have never once used it, however, without him first warning, 'Don't cut off your hand'. 

This little laser line machine is essential in this squint cottage. What a shame that it fell while I was away and sustained a broken bottom. The part is now ordered, and it sort of works, but our efficiency is compromised!

When making walls from plasterboard, these little tools are the secret of a good job. The, what I call, 'nutmeg grater' is used to smooth cut edges. The wee nibblet of plasterboard is to check you've left enough overhang in which to abut the adjacent sheet of plasterboard on a corner. The glass of red wine is an essential piece of equipment post 6pm.

One of the existing beams was making it difficult to insert a panel of plasterboard, so Kevin created a tourniquet to pull the beam slightly sideways. I thought this was rather clever! What wasn't so clever was when Kevin was admiring his work and leaned on the tourniquet 'brace' beam. The whole caboodle shot round like a catapult, smashing one of the bulbs on the the festoon. We have precious few bulbs, as they are screw caps, and we can't find any like them in France. It was fortunate that we were both standing far enough back in our state of admiration, otherwise one of us could have received a nasty wallop! 

 Panel safely inserted.

ANOTHER HOLE

Do we have mice the size of lions? No, we have Kevin, trying to dig a hole through the wall for the waste pipe. The walls are more than two feet thick. They actually are- that's not one of my exaggerations. He has been stopped due to a lump of flint the size of a 25lb oven ready Christmas turkey. He's looking for ways round it, but now there are stones falling down... just a bit. We don't want the wall to collapse, so the cement mixer is now 'in play' to help him quickly fill up the hole on one side of the turkey. I, like a Frenchman awaiting the English end of the Channel Tunnel, am poised on the outdoor side of the wall, waiting for him to appear. Standing well back. Just in case.