The Self Builder’s blog

When you can buy one of these bad-boys. 

I wrote about home-automation and gadgets a tad earlier this week.

As I said, or typed, then, I’m trying to be as realistic as possible when it comes to technology in my new home.

There is absolutely no point paying a lot of money for gizmos, whose benefits would not really be fully yielded.

The house is set up to take TV aerials in each room, and there are cables run for Sky in several rooms, that’s if I do eventually decide to pay for my television viewing again.

But I’ve not gone much further. Biometric door lock aside.

That’s not to say that plenty of other products, or ideas, have not been appraised.

Robotic lawn mowers have been on the long list of products to be considered, reviewed, and dismissed, for now.

Because as well as suffering terribly with the domestically challenged gene, I do have a genuine concern that the maintenance on this gaff will become a bind.

With that in mind the gardener’s spec has contained the words - easiest maintenance possible - in bold from the very beginning.

Some new friends who are renovating a property in the same village as me, educated, or enlightened me to the existence of automatic vacuums or floor cleaners.

Apparently there is a particular cost-effective model that is brilliant on hard surfaces, such as the tiles and wood scheduled for my ground floor.

So after some initial research it appears that this idea could have wings, or batteries and a mind of its own anyway.

Well in ten days actually.

When I did the whole smarter home evaluation I started with all the knobs and whistles.

A wired network in every room, retractable cinema screen and surround sound music pipe-able everywhere.

Investigation of these systems, and a genuine realisation that I won’t really use the benefits, let alone be able to pay for them, has meant that they’ve been firmly shunted from the specification.

Plus it looks like I’ll be able to create a similar experience, through wireless equipment, should I choose to in the future.

But during the investigations, and visits to those sections of the various homebuilding magazines I came across biometric locks.

Now, that is the future.

Misplacing your keys isn’t a problem, well, it only becomes a problem if you also lose your thumb while you’re out.

I thought these things were going to be mega-bucks, but I was pleasantly surprised that I can get one for a little over £200, that’s if you can claim the VAT back.

Then the next problem it seems is actually getting hold of one.

Hence it’s not quite the future today.

I tried two different on-line security/smart homes set ups, both quickly cancelled my order - citing supply issues.

The actual manufacturer is now supplying me the lock, or has promised to supply the lock in ten days.

I’m now a one-off-pro-forma customer, who’s hopeful that he’s going to be able to access his shiny new house in a shiny new way.

We should be water-tight in less than 24 hours.

A huge achievement in my opinion, based on the amount of work done and the time of year it has been carried out.

We seem to be much nearer the end, than we are to the start, which of course, I hope that we actually are.

The windows look really good.  I’m looking forward to seeing my stain glass design in all its glory tomorrow.

This also means that our Gantt chart of works has got no gaps in it again.  Once the plastering is done, the underfloor heating can be put in and the floor screeded, and thus and on and on.

Which means that the kitchen could do with being on order, and I need to get the floor choices on order.

Good timing for the Homebuilding and Renovating Show then.  I’ve been sent tickets from the people I’ve been eyeing up wooden floor from.  They reckon they are the only ones to guarantee their product for use with underfloor heating.

I’ve been sent various samples, but I really want to see a decent chunk of it before deciding if it’s for me, and if so, what derivative.  Fingers crossed they can afford enough floor space at the NEC, or failing that, work out that they could display their stuff vertically.

Or at least the bare bones of one.

It is absolutely fantastic when people can turn my picture from a magazine and vague verbal description, into what I actually wanted.

That’s what the carpenters have done on this job.

It was essential we stuck exactly to the planning permission,  but the materials, construction and finished are not specified in detail in the approved application.

Originally the porch was designed with dwarf walls, which I think would have been great to stow wood against, and outside shoes would have stayed dry even when left outside.

This design was rejected by the planners, so instead we have what you see above.  Two oak uprights supporting a simple pitched roof, with the aid of the wall.  The actual roof should match the cottage style finish of the overall house roof. 

By painting the exposed beams white, I’m hoping to create a nice contrast against the treated oak and granulated roof tiles.

I’ll have to invest in a waterproof box for outside shoes, and I’ll have to have another look for a wood store.  So not perfect, but not a big compromise and still absolutely brilliant.

I’m delighted to say, or type, delighted again. 

I’m delighted with the way the house appears, minus the scaffold.

It has been a tad delayed in coming down, due to this week’s high winds.  Not really the best conditions for attaching guttering, and I’m glad that it has been done safely and has thus far stuck on.

The rainwater goods themselves are attached directly to the end of the roof trusses.  A fascia and soffit are discarded and this is regarded as of more a cottage style finish.

Many won’t like this style of finish, and it is quite a rare sight on new builds, I’m led to believe, but I think it looks great.

Painting it may well be a right royal pain in the derrière, but that’s got to be better than bit of ‘L’ shaped plastic jimmied between roof tile and wall.

Now there suddenly seems a lot of questions to answer.  Electricians and plumbers need detail, not vague ideologies.  I’m not great at vague ideologies by the way.

Things like the kitchen design now need to be final, so the first fix electrics can marry to it. 

So I’ve a feel I’m suddenly going to be very busy with site business.

Saying that though, I’d have been a lot, lot,  busier had I not developed a very good relationship with both this builder and my brother-in-law electrician.

I’m hoping that by being busy and involved, it will feel like no time before we are actually in it. 

Then the three-foot-foreman can get on with his own modifications.

With the removal of the scaffold imminent, the overall look of the house will soon be exposed to all and sundry.

The rainwater goods are going on, the tiling to the single storey roof is being finished, tiles are being added to the pantry roof and sides of the chimney breast, the externals of the house won’t change much from here on in.

However on the inside, the size of the fitting out task seems mammoth, even compared to what has been achieved thus far.

It is here where minor details become crucial, to price, timescale and appearance.  Using the wrong fittings, even relatively minor ones, like plug sockets, will either enhance or detract from the overall impact of this project.

I am in negotiations with my builder, and my brother-in-law electrician, to see if we can manage as close to an ‘under one roof’ solution as possible, to the conclusion of this project.  What I mean is, I’ve chosen to off-load some of the project management by having most of the trades through one contractor.

The balance of risk and negating any arguments between trades, versus saving an estimated figure, has tipped in the favour of using a one-for-all completion route.   Albeit with the exception of certain specific parts like electrics, but you hopefully get what I’m typing.  

So from here on in, there shall be many more pictures, but rather of a transforming indoors.  Hopefully at a decent pace and to a very good standard.

With the generous assistance of my father, I’ve tried to run this self-build project to the tightest of tight budgets. 

A dangerous game from reading around the subject, but really a necessary, well, a necessary if I want to actually live in this place.  

We spent a lot of time on the budget, mainly because we had it.  It took several months to get amended planning permission and there was precious little else to do while the planners did their work, other than run things through a calculator. 

There was at least three heads involved in the budgeting, and we used three very different methods.   

Two scientific, one from my quantity surveying background sibling, and the other from a collective of research and quotations, compiled by my father. 

Mine was not quite done on the back of a fag packet, I don’t smoke.  But I used the approximate square foot cost, for build quality, route, and area.  Multiplied by the actual size of the proposed dwelling. 

All three came out within a whisker of one another. 

So the budget was set, and our major concern was getting out of the ground, as we thought we had control of all the rest. 

A builder’s quote arrived to give us the shell of the house, roughly to the budget we had set, and with the exact materials we wanted to use. 

We held our breath for any nasty ground discoveries, but instead were delighted to here that the ground was of sound quality – the builder even referred to it as the ‘Rolls Royce’ of ground. Thus, as the house nears the end of the shell status, we thought we were on to hit our budget, or in the very least in control of it.  

Quotes are in, and some are higher than we expected, but we can find alternatives and different methods to hit budgets.  But one of the biggest shocks was an quotation to connect into the sewer system. 

We’d almost forgot about this quote, especially as the other services, including water connection, had quoted so quickly and been paid for. 

As there is a sewer man hole approximately two metres from the end of my new drive, we confidently left a contingency of £1,500 in.  We thought about the middle ground after reading the brilliant home builders bible. 

However, our friends at the water board think differently, and didn’t really want to even justify the exorbitant cost, which is nearer to £10,000.   

‘If you don’t like it you can use someone else, you’ve already paid for an inspection.’ 

And use somebody else, we shall – especially if I want a granite work surface in the kitchen, or even a kitchen for the granite to sit on.

When I say, or type, away, what I actually mean is - forming the major support of the roof structure over the master bedroom.

It was quite a sight to see.  One huge crane, and two huge beams being hoisted into their new home.

What was more amusing was watching the conglomerate of people directing traffic safely around the crane, and the builders trying to sign instructions to the I-know-what-I’m-doing crane driver.   I wish I’d had my camcorder with me, instead I just have a few pictures of the crane and beams going up.  But an event I’m glad I witnessed.

I’d seen the beams arrive last week, and did wonder how they would be lifted into position.  The ever-the-optimist builder had suggested the men were strong enough to lift them into position.  They even tried.  But when the site forklift couldn’t even lift the beams from the ground, he was forced into a glass-half-full position.

This feature is one I must thank my architect for.  When I stressed concern that I thought the master bedroom having a lower pitched-in roof, would not be giving me normal clearance, I’d asked if we could have trusses that had higher cross supports, so the ceiling could be higher.

He said “of course, you can have what you want - but I’d do this.”

And do this, I’ve done.  The builders were perplexed at why I’d gone down this route, rather than the one I’d described.  But then again, I must thank the architect for having someone to blame.

They all agreed though, that once the beams were in, they look magnificent, and that it will  be a fabulous feature for this bedroom.

My only concern is that, as these beams are so substantial, anyone looking at them would think - they have to be fake, who would go to the bother of putting them there?  The builders each gave me their mobile phone numbers for any such occasion, they said they’d be happy to confirm authenticity!

As the house actually takes shape, you can start to see where everything is going to go, and how big the rooms will actually be.

You also get a great idea of the view you will get from each window. 

Today I spotted a problem, or should I say, opportunity.

As the architect insisted that a sort-of galleried landing would give the house a much better feel upstairs, one was designed in.  A window was also added to allow natural light into this area.

At this early stage I’m starting to see what the man-with-the-plan meant.  The stairs would have just led to a series of doors, but this addition will mean they lead to a small area for a bookcase and chair, that all roads then lead from.

However when standing at the top of the mythical stairs, looking through the hole that will become a window, you look straight across at one of my neighbours’ bungalows.

Not a terrible view, but much worse than the other side of the house. 

There’s also the neighbour to consider.  And I’d rather not worry them thinking, I’ve got a view, right into their lives.

So, I could simply go frosted glass, but I think it would be better to have a unique, yet simple, stain glass design. One that really puts a personal stamp on this home.

Whilst not being renowned as a useful artist, I think this design should be simple enough to come from me.  I could consult Max’s nursery and see if they wanted to run a competition, but fear I would end up looking at some sort of dinosaur every morning.

Taking inspiration from the views from the other side of the house, I’ve scribbled the four very similar designs (pictured), I am leaning towards ‘D’ at the moment, but I’m sure I’m a way from a final design.

If I do plump for one of these designs or similar, maybe, just maybe, it will appease the neighbours, who at least will have some sort of open-aspect-view.

In what seems like no time at all, the house is ready for, the already delivered, roof trusses.

It seems amazing to me, how quickly the house has gone from being, essentially a field, to actually looking like a house.

Especially after the time it took, from buying the land with planning permission, and going through the protracted process of getting the inherited plans amended.

Friends and relatives of mine have recently had building works going on. And despite being fantastically well organised, it’s made me fully aware I’m going to be having more days, maybe even weeks, of inactivity, as trade people overlap and do their best Lord Lucan impressions.

For the time being it’s not quelling my growing excitement. However I’m sure my stress levels are about to go up, and with them, my frustration versus excitement will definitely be working on an inversely proportional scale.