OR NOT, as the case may be. The final stretch is stretching – and stretching. The electrician’s waiting for the decorator, who’s waiting for the plumber, who’s waiting for the joiner, who’s waiting for the electrician. Towards the end it’s inevitable that as the work gets finer and more precise, the order in which things are done becomes more crucial. We take comfort from the fact that it means at least everybody cares that their bit’s done properly. And it’s a bit like having a baby: friends who 30 years ago were telling you their pregnancy/birth horror stories, now talk about their building nightmares. How six months on they’re still waiting for the plumber to finish, or trying to get compensation for the roof that fell in unexpectedly. Well, we have none of those worries; we’re just looking forward to seeing the job finished.
Meanwhile, we have a fantastic surprise: Edward (the GE – George Edward – of GE Brown and Son who’re managing the contract and doing the building work) arrives with the name plate we asked for. What’s more, he’s carved it himself. We can’t wait to see it. “Don’t get too excited,” he warns as he goes to fetch it from the van. “It might not be what you want. I just guessed, really.” On the kitchen table it looks – well, not what we expected. But once placed against the chapel wall at the front we realise the local sandstone from which it is carved – not the Welsh slate of the side-door nameplate – is the perfect solution for the building. Entirely in sympathy with the stonework, and looking already as if it’s been there for years. Meanwhile, among a multitude of other jobs which he’s trying to co-ordinate around everybody else, David’s working on the side door which has been in a sorry state, leaking water and generally falling apart at the seams. But it’s part of the original building (we think) so we don’t want to replace it altogether. Oh yes – and at last he agreed to be photographed. Just wish I knew how to line them up properly.