Monday 7 March 2011

Thanks Dad…

Oh dear, my poor chimney. It’s been deteriorating for a while now but the ice and wind this winter finally finished it off. Every weekend I’ve been finding large and larger chunks of mortar on the gravel in front of the cottage. And then, a couple of weeks ago there was a huge thump on kitchen roof as something clattered down in the gale force winds. Of course I had to take a look and there it was; a chunk of mortar almost the size on a small car. Something had to be done before either more serious damage was caused or the chimney fell down altogether.

Calling my friendly local builder I was a little surprised to find that the repair was going to cost me fourteen hundred quid (with scaffolding and the removal of all rubble but exclusive of VAT). Even with scaffolding (and of course the rubble removal) fourteen hundred quid for a bit of cement seemed a little steep so, as I do in times of direst trouble, I turned to my dad for advice.

My dad comes from that time when you did everything yourself. Not only did you clean your car by hand, but you serviced it yourself and if it broke down then you repaired it yourself. I even remember (aged 8) helping my dad change the gearbox of his old Cortina at night, by torchlight (I was the torch holder).

Yes’ I think it would be fair to say that my dad is one of those men who ‘has a go’. I think that he learnt it from his dad who grew his own vegetables, raised his own pigs, shoed his own horse, and built his own steam engine. What was pointing up a chimney compared to that?

‘There’s no need to call someone out. You can do that yor’sen.’ My dad would mumble when a neighbour called the glazier to replace a broken pane, or the plumber to fix a leaking tap, or the nuclear engineer to close down the reactor that was about to go… well, nuclear.

I too will have a go at most things (I think I learnt that from my dad) but a combination of my bad back, poor cementing skills, and a not very good head for heights, didn’t exactly have me rushing for my trowel. So as I’ve already said, I rang my dad for advice.

‘There’s no need to call someone out. We can do that our’sen.’ My dad said down the phone line. Really? Yes, we can can’t we. I can’t, but together I believe we can.

So this Saturday at ten prompt my dad, dressed in his overalls, arrived with a boot full of buckets, wire brushes, trowels and levels and we set to work. My ladder system (the one that has four locking sections to make it into a platform or even a ‘L’ platform) was ideal to reach the chimney. All I had to do was rest it on the flat roof of the kitchen and then place the upturned ‘L’ on the flat roofs of the bedroom dormers giving me, with a little moving around of the ladders, 360 degree access.

Our 'setting to' involved my dad mixing the mortar, bucketing it up to me on a rope, and me up on the ladders slapping on the sand and cement. It wasn’t easy and progress was slow. My dad mixed and carried, climbing the ladder again and again, and towards the end helping me with the tricky bit where we needed to nail on the board to get an overhang so that the water would drip away from the stack. I’d never have managed it on my own, definitely not in the time. In fact I probably wouldn’t have started on my own at all and just payed the friendly builder his fourteen hundred quid or even let the stack crumble away to nothing.

It took six hours, two sacks of ready-mix mortar, some PVA, a lot of fiddling about, and a big pinch of determination. I really didn’t like standing on the platform when we did the front edge, but dad was there holding the ladder steady and telling me not to step back.

So, maybe the finish isn’t perfect, the look a little rustic, but it’ll do the job very nicely and it is a very old cottage in the country. Once it’s sealed and painted it’ll look just fine, and at twenty quid for materials it’s a good bit cheaper than getting somebody in.

Fourteen hundred quid. Bah! We did it our’sens didn’t we dad.

Thanks, I’d never have done it without you.

16 comments:

  1. Great story. A heartwarming factual tale reminding us that we don't always need to 'get a man in'. No sexism intended. What was the PVA for? Some kind of sealant? Our chimney needs a more effective cap as water is coming down it. It is a 3 floor drop with no flat roof. Do you do foreigners?

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  2. P.S. Paula said she will pay you in eggs from our chickens and home made damson jam. You could have had the sloe vodka she made too but unfortunately I have enjoyed most of it.

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  3. PVA helps the new cement to adhere (my dad told me).

    My limit is about 10 ft and I was at about 16, so a bit too high. Had one bad moment when I looked down and went dizzy, so I had to sit for five minutes.

    Can't do a 3 floor drop I'm afraid without scaffolding and that'll be 1400 quid plus VAT - but you'll have to remove your own rubble.

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  4. Scott Mitchell commented on Facebook:
    that totally rings true for me, I too have held the torch!

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  5. Your dad! He'll never stop will he.

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  6. Catherine Halls-Jukes commented on facebook:
    I too have this attitude, but now I have a "man" who can do for me, but it is not unknown for me to fix the washing machine, freezer, dish washer.

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  7. Catherine Halls-Jukes also commented on Facebook:
    Just like your dad, let's give it ago, especially with the internet, things are not that difficult..and I'd rather spend my money on me !!!

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  8. Vicky Sutcliffe commented on Facebook:
    Dads and lads teamwork we call it in our house ...

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  9. David Bell commented on Facebook:
    We share a common heritage. My Dad was a builder and years after his death I still cannot bring myself to hire in a tradesman unless I absolutely have to. You can't take the Yorkshire out of a Yorkshire man. It's all about pride.

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  10. My dad's actually from Lincolnshire, but what the heck!

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  11. Nick Jennings commented on Facebook:
    its not about yorkshire but about dads! and its not about changing a gearbox (that brought back some great memories thank you Andy) or pointing or glazing, but about having a go, and I like to think that what dads gave us was the belief in ourselves to 'have a go' and if it doesnt come out perfick, to have the satisfaction to know we 'had a go'. I pray I've given that one to mine, coz I know how good it feels when you look at it and feel like you've done a 'proper' days work!

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  12. Andy Lloyd commented on Faceboook.
    Andy wrote "You don't appreciate it at the time, but all those childhood hours of holding ladders, holding torches & passing various tools really pay off when you need to 'have a go' yourself. You are so lucky to have your Dad around. I'm sure he enjoys seeing his apprentice at work."

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  13. Lovely story Andy - never give up and never surrender - Phil M.

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  14. My dad's the same. He helped me to fix the flush on our toilet the other week. I now know how to take apart the siphon and understand how they work. Only problem is - you can't buy parts for 'em - they only come as complete sealed units!
    Joan

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  15. Steve Bishop e-mailed:
    Good work on that Chimney (got to do the pointing on my roof this Summer)

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