Revenge of the Army of Reconstruction
Tuesday, 17 October 2006 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freckles_and_doubtThe problem with the Evil Landlord being, well, a landlord, is that the house exists in this sort of perpetual state of ongoing renovation, upgrade and, occasionally, destruction. Today: jo&stv's mad friend Jeremy's guys have spent the morning deconstructing the old Aga stove that has sat in the kitchen since we moved in, silently occupying space and being, in defiance of all rationality, a Feature. (Not so much of a Feature as the evil-minded estate agent would have had us believe when the EL bought the house, though: she assured us, straight-faced, that the Aga was in working condition, but deconstruction has revealed that half of the inner smoke-conducting pipes are, so to speak, nailed to the perch. If we'd ever actually tried the thing out, we would have probably burned the house down. Thank heavens for basic cowardice).
Deconstruction was a fascinating process, productive of much noise, thumping, occasional crashes, and incredible quantities of vermiculite insulation all over the kitchen. Also, dust. Did I mention dust? There is not a surface in the kitchen that isn't dusty. There's dust in my hair. Also, my teeth. Meep. The stove deconstructs into approximately half a million interestingly-shaped bits of metal, some of them gigantic cast-iron box things weighing rather more than I do. The fact that Jeremy seriously believes he can recondition and reassemble it means he's a better man than I am, Gunga Din.
Needless to say, I am rather happy to see the back of this particular white elephant, which has squatted in the kitchen all this time like a quiet and peaceable sort of anachronism, but which is effectively a gigantic, cast-iron waste of space. In addition, it's part of a larger deal in which Jeremy acquires it in part payment for the grey water system his guys are even now installing in the back courtyard. (This involves much noise, thumping, occasional drilling and incredible quantites of sand and concrete chips. Also, dust. Did I mention dust? Are you sensing a theme here?). As far as I'm concerned, however, all of the above, plus the ongoing feline trauma occasioned by all the noise, is very definitely Worth It in terms of the increased kitchen space, a well-watered garden without the necessity for me doing my druidic bit quite as often, and the warm, happy glow of Ecological Wossname.
Inspired, I even managed to mark a batch of essays this morning. I also read half of China Mieville's Looking for Jake, which is frankly impressive. That man has a creepy, creepy imagination in all the right ways. I'm also detecting, in stories like "Go Between", more than a passing resemblance to the all-out paranoid reality-warping of Philip K. Dick. Which is cool, it's about time Dickian sf produced an heir.
In other news, I have IBurst, the Evil Landlord having gone forth yesterday and acquired several million metres of network cable. A quick application of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolverine_nun's husband to the technical bits, and we're networked. The dust layers in the house are acquiring interesting patterns on account of how I'm all dancing around the place on the tip-tips of my toes.
Deconstruction was a fascinating process, productive of much noise, thumping, occasional crashes, and incredible quantities of vermiculite insulation all over the kitchen. Also, dust. Did I mention dust? There is not a surface in the kitchen that isn't dusty. There's dust in my hair. Also, my teeth. Meep. The stove deconstructs into approximately half a million interestingly-shaped bits of metal, some of them gigantic cast-iron box things weighing rather more than I do. The fact that Jeremy seriously believes he can recondition and reassemble it means he's a better man than I am, Gunga Din.
Needless to say, I am rather happy to see the back of this particular white elephant, which has squatted in the kitchen all this time like a quiet and peaceable sort of anachronism, but which is effectively a gigantic, cast-iron waste of space. In addition, it's part of a larger deal in which Jeremy acquires it in part payment for the grey water system his guys are even now installing in the back courtyard. (This involves much noise, thumping, occasional drilling and incredible quantites of sand and concrete chips. Also, dust. Did I mention dust? Are you sensing a theme here?). As far as I'm concerned, however, all of the above, plus the ongoing feline trauma occasioned by all the noise, is very definitely Worth It in terms of the increased kitchen space, a well-watered garden without the necessity for me doing my druidic bit quite as often, and the warm, happy glow of Ecological Wossname.
Inspired, I even managed to mark a batch of essays this morning. I also read half of China Mieville's Looking for Jake, which is frankly impressive. That man has a creepy, creepy imagination in all the right ways. I'm also detecting, in stories like "Go Between", more than a passing resemblance to the all-out paranoid reality-warping of Philip K. Dick. Which is cool, it's about time Dickian sf produced an heir.
In other news, I have IBurst, the Evil Landlord having gone forth yesterday and acquired several million metres of network cable. A quick application of
wolverine_nun's husband to the technical bits, and we're networked. The dust layers in the house are acquiring interesting patterns on account of how I'm all dancing around the place on the tip-tips of my toes.
