White Van Woman
Next up: Doors.
You may recall, if you’ve been following this epic saga from the start, that I wanted to replace the study doors with something a little more ‘cottagey’. So after the excesses and consequential inertia of Christmas and the New Year what better to rekindle the renovation spirit than another cross country sourcing expedition?
On the face of it there is plenty of choice. But only some of them conformed to the ideal cottage style and when they did they were rarely of the required height. The older the door, the shorter it is likely to be. My study doorway seems to have been enlarged at some point in its history and the louvred panels leading to the en-suite are, obviously, a modern addition. Finding old doors to fit these openings was proving to be an uphill task.
Along the way, Mike thought he had found the perfect thing for me..
‘Manager’. Ho ho ho.
By this time our mission had extended across three counties and well beyond the realms of most salvage firms’ delivery reach. A new problem began to emerge. Even if we found a door, how, exactly, would we get it home?
Simple. We would hire a van.
Things were complicated a tad by a mix up with the rental company when the short wheelbase vehicle that Mike had reserved online somehow transformed itself into a wheelbase that was considerably longer. The van was bloomin’ huge. Thankfully, for the benefit of all concerned, yours truly was relieved of any of the driving. My job was navigation. And finding a suitable place to stop for lunch. I did rather better with the latter.
I used to enjoy map reading and achieved a passable standard over the years. It was a sad day indeed when I was declared redundant in favour of someone called Tom Tom. No matter, these days I have trumped all that with the ‘blue spot’ on my iPad. The blue spot follows a pre-programmed route on the screen and comes with the advantage that one can engage in a bit of blogging, and indeed a bit of twittering, all at the same time. You can see where this is going, helped not even slightly by LWRS (Long Wheelbase Related Stress).
There were a few moments of heated debate and, to be fair, not all of it was my fault. How infuriating is it, when you are given a task and offer up the correct and independently verified (Google Maps) information only to be overruled by someone who thinks he knows far better? Or when you have just circumnavigated a roundabout for the third time despite the fact that the required exit had been pointed out clearly on each of the two previous occasions?
At the end of the day it was all good fun.
We had a nice lunch.
At a pitstop for diesel there was a Twix to share. (A Yorkie bar might have been more appropriate.)
The van was returned with nothing to put on a damage report.
And how’s this for a result?