The Water Treatment Plant has arrived.. on the back of a lorry that blocked up the road. Local car drivers could only sit and stare as the mighty tank was hoisted up. No wonder it needed such a bloody great hole.
The difficulty, as ever, was in getting it down the drive. It started on its journey looking precarious, suspended from the bucket of the Swing Shovel. A temporary hiatus thanks to a low hanging branch but the chainsaw soon remedied that. To the greatest relief of all concerned the tank was lowered, very gently, into the ground.
With barely time for a coffee, the concrete came next. Dumped, in a heap, squarely in front of the garage door. Did we have plans to go out? Not any more. The dumper truck worked overtime, ferrying the rapidly hardening substrate from the top of the hill to the bottom. Set in place all around the tank, surely only an earthquake will now shift it.
By lunchtime they were back at work on the path alongside the house.
The pick axe was replaced by a jackhammer today. It lifted the tarmac with ease and started to slice through the concrete beneath. Four inches down and we’d have expected bare earth. But instead, a discovery. A layer of closely packed stones: what looked like an original cobble stone path. Stones rounded and worn by countless feet of old.
We couldn’t save all of it. The drains still had to be laid. But the guys worked carefully, each stone gently extracted, cleaned off and retained.
It will need some work. Now there’s a surprise. It’s too uneven as it is to be practical as a path.
But how lucky eh, that the digger didn’t fit through the gap in the wall?