Well...
Concrete ordered for 11am, everyone here and ready by twenty to. At 11.10 the phone went. "We're running a bit late. Will a quarter to twelve be OK?". As if I had a choice. 12 o'clock. 12. 15. Still no concrete. I ring, get the answerphone. Grrrrr. Twenty to one the phone goes. "We're on our way, we'll be ten minutes."
So we had some Thai carrot soup and waited. They eventually turned up a few minutes before one, two hours late.
However, it was not time wasted:
Ray, Bob and I knocked down some more of the back wall and stacked the blocks on the neighbour's garden. They want some of the blocks so that suits me fine.
Charlie and Chris restacked some of my wood out of the way:
and Thérèse (That's like Theresa only posh French) cut up some firewood for me:
Incidentally, Thérèse is the only lady I know who owns has her own concrete mixer...
SO when the lorry finally turned up we had achieved quite a lot, just not what we had intended.
But then disaster, we were a bit short:
So Ray mixed some by hand, while the others hosed down the wheelbarrows and shovels. There are no pics of that as I was busy in the kitchen making some rather excellent bacon and egg sarnies. And so, after they were demolished as well as my triple lemon cake, we were left with:
So all's well that ends well and I got 15% knocked off the bill.
As Ray went, he called "See you tomorrow for some bricklaying. That'll be easy compared with this".