Week six - it's (almost) all white here

For our weekly slum inspection this week, we were met by a very pleased looking builder. 

And a Very Pleased Builder is a Very Good Thing.

He is pleased, because the upstairs is now largely white, which he has learnt will Please Rob.

And he is pleased, because it is time to put shelving and rails in the storage cupboards upstairs for all my tat extensive wardrobe, which he has learnt will Please Siobhan.

And We Are Pleased.

The bedrooms upstairs really do look fabulous.  Now all I have to do is figure out how many shelves I want.  

What will actually happen, of course, is:

1. Siobhan will suggest what design she would like for the inside of the cupboards.
2. Rob will listen to this suggestion, and respond with an completely poker face.
3. Siobhan will assume this is confirmation of agreement.
4. Over the coming weeks, Rob will say nothing, but using Jedi powers, Derren Brown Mind Control, and probably the Eye of Sauron, subtly impart his opinion for interior design into Siobhan's consciousness.
5. By the end of the project, Siobhan will find herself living in an empty, white box, with Rob saying 'but we decided this together, dear'.

*sigh*

Anyway, the bathrooms are coming on.  I hope someone knows what to do with this lot:

We have some lovely heated towel rails (no shower, toilet, sink or bath, but we will have warm towels).

I'm also relieved to report that health and safety has returned to the slum, as the banister has been replaced at the top of the stairs.  Now I can stop repeating 'Don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs don't fall down the stairs' to myself every time I visit:

At the bottom of the stairs the minimalist encroachment stops. 

The kitchen is all ready for its Ikea make over.  Check out the UFH complexity, waiting to be plumbed in.  

And spot the architect.

 Now, this might seem like a very minor thing to most of you, but we are excited about this.

Not the yellow bucket.

Or Joao's legs.

But this section of floor downstairs hasn't been level, ever.

Now it is.

See, exciting!

And look how great that step is into the bike storage area.  I think the concept of making a step is so alien, so manly, so.... well, I couldn't do it.  So I'm finding this step quite exciting.

Gosh, that yellow bucket is keen on the limelight.

Outside, we are apparently taking a stance against the early arrival of Christmas in Nunhead.

See if you can spot the wreath (the origins of which are a complete mystery to me):

And finally, we still have some lovely (obviously not lovely enough to remain in the slum, but sacrifices had to be made for the UFH) original floorboards going spare.   

Week five - CSI Nunhead

We have been tagged.

Not this sort:

But this sort:

Look.

Now, I'm no expert, but I don't think that's Nunhead's answer to Banksy.

How rude.

If you recognise the scribble, do let our lovely Met officers know.

Anyway, still outside the slum we now find this rather distressing scene.

My now honed powers of forensic DIY crime scene investigation told me to PANIC and ask Rob what this was.

Obviously, this is the floor boards, removed in order to lay the underfloor heating, and waiting to see whether anyone in the vicinity wants to buy them from us.

Obviously.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the underfloor heating.

I feel somehow warmer, just knowing that the pipes are red.

Oooh, complex.

Not sure why the floorboards have red lines printed on them, but again, just knowing that they do makes me feel toasty.

The underfloor heating (now known trendily as 'the UFH' in our house) has also expanded into the scary cat mask room:

Into which the tea-room-area has also been moved.

Spot the vinegar.

Upstairs, things are progressing rapidly.  

WE HAVE DOORS!

LOOK, cupboard DOORS!

(Initial panic from Rob because they aren't white.  They will be painted white.  Phew.)

The rest of the room has now been painted...

(white) 

And just look at the transformation of this part of the room, which previously had a horrible fireplace full of ash:

Not only do we have cupboard doors, but we also have door doors:

Again, this is Rob worrying that they aren't white.

They will be.

Most of the walls upstairs already are:

So it's a bit annoying that this week the slum has been graffitied.  And not even in a groovy, trendy way (which I would totes be down with, obvs.).

To cheer us all up, here's a bonus window photo.

Week four - will there be light?

We have walls!  Walls with no wood chip wallpaper, no dodgy plaster - lovely, skimmed, plastered, smooth, (slightly damp - note to self, don't touch the walls) walls.

We don't have a horrible fireplace in the scary-cat-mask-room:

So that's good.  

(Incidentally, we now have a cast iron fireplace going spare, if anyone is interested)

We also have lovely, skimmed, plastered, smooth ceilings:

Oooh, lovely. 

Here's one of our lovely Bulgarian builders in the process of skimming:

But hang on.

This is Rob's 'thinking' face.  

Where are the light fittings?

Where are we going to put our lovely Scandinavian light fittings?!

Ilyian assures us that he knows exactly where the wires are behind the ceilings, provided he doesn't lose this:

That's the building plan.

Let's take a closer look at that:

Erm, yes.  Please do.

Still on the walls theme, whilst the men were discussing acoustic tape, or something, I spotted this.  

Any idea?  Nope, me neither.

There's this too:

These Bulgarian hieroglyphs will shortly be hidden forever (yes, forever because we aren't mad and won't be wallpapering these walls) so I felt it important to record them, in case in the future it turns out these are the secret to eternal life, or a warning of the world ending, or something.

In other unexplained building phenomena news, this has appeared upstairs:

I can only conclude that either:

1. The builders have adopted a pet brick,
2. The slum really is part of the Crimson Permanent Assurance and this is a hastily prepared anchor,
3. Off cuts of insulation are tricky things prone to escaping in the dead of night,
4. Or the builders, inspired by last week's installation of Nunhead's latest modern art offering 'Cast Out Cast Iron' are attempting their own contribution to local culture.

In other news, the manly Black 'n' Decker work bench is now in danger of drifting away on a sea of sawdust:

I appear to have been shaking whilst taking this photo - whether from fear of the whizzy blade machine thingy or in excitement at the manly DIY going on I'll let you decide:

They have been using this dangerous looking bit of kit to make things like this step up to the bike-storage-area (or at least I presume they have, I'm a girl so obviously wouldn't know):

Moving away from construction, there has been some more destruction this week.  

Ever wondered what lurks beneath your floorboards?  Well, wonder no more dear readers:

Yuk.

Continuing with undesirables, we noted that this is what remains of the only toilet in the slum.

Which presumably explains the suspiciously yellow looking bottles of water in the kitchen.  I will spare you a photo.

Finally, I know how much you all love to learn more about the habits of our wonderful builder friends (except, perhaps, for the above revelation).

This week, I bring to you the contents of a builder's tea break.

Let's analyse that.

1. Instant coffee.
2. Tea bags.
3. Sugar.
4. More instant coffee. 
5. Milk.
6. Malt vinegar.
7. Chewing gum.
8. Tobacco.

Of course.

Week three - some shots in the dark

We were a wee bit busy this weekend, hiking up Ben Nevis and driving round bonny Scotland, so we missed out on seeing the results of week three in the light.  And there are no longer lights at all in the slum, so we made a stumbling, health and safety non-approved trip in the Nunhead dusk tonight.

That's my excuse for the poor photos, anyway.

Here's Rob looking expertly at the newly skimmed walls in the hallway.

He then gave me a lengthy monologue about the merits of various types of plastering technique.  It may or may not have been interesting/accurate.  I'll let you decide.

Anyway, whilst he was mid-lecture I tripped over these:

Radiators! 

Far more exciting even than radiators though...

No, not the window again (although isn't it nice?!), the lovely walls.  And the lovely space.  Lovely lovely lovely.  We stood in the cold and dark for quite some time appreciating this.  Mmmmm, lovely.  

And look at the WINDOW!

Away from the window, we are happy to note that the builders are taking following the plans seriously:

And we are also relieved to see that they have successfully moved the asbestos-box-of-electrical-doom onto the wall.  Phew.  No Bulgarian builders were harmed in the process (we hope). 

Rob is glad to see that the main earth wire for the slum is still nicely exposed.

Here's that manky 70's tiled fireplace in the sitting room:

Sorry, sorry, what's that?  You can't see it?  Neither can we!  Hurrah!

And instead we have Nunhead's latest piece of installation art. 

I'm naming this 'Cast Out Cast Iron'.

If anyone wants a cast iron fireplace let me know.

That's Rob checking where our secret surprise lovely light fitting will go.  I'm hoping he's planning on attaching it to the ceiling, otherwise his arms are going to get very sore.

Upstairs, I feel that we are now embarking on some proper Dad-style construction, because we have acquired a temporary bench made of spare step ladders and MDF.

With not just one, not two, but three Black and Decker bits of kit on it.

I know, you're jealous.  I feel totally empowered, in a manly way.

I might feel more manly if I could call those things something more accurate than 'bits of kit'.

Whilst I was distracted pretending I was in Scrapheap Challenge, Rob was inspecting the new bath shelf (yes, we have a bath shelf - and it will be back lit people, back lit!)  (again, I'm a bit concerned Rob might be veering into 80's bachelor pad territory here but we'll worry about that later).

And finally, a last peek of that appalling blue and pink paint in the upstairs bedroom.  This is about to be boxed in forever.  Say goodbye...