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.

While the building has been going at a fair rate of knots, the service connections have been meandering along like a broken canal barge in the background.

The builder has had nowt to do with the connections, and predicted they would take as long as it will to build the house from start to finish.

Hopefully they’ll be complete by the end of May, what will be at least a month prior to completion.

But, I suppose, as they were ordered, or at least enquired about, three months before we cut sods.  Then his prediction was bang on.

The latest to go in has been the electric, which I had a minor concern about the position of the box on the house.

I’d had a few minor panic attacks that the powers that be would decide the position was actually on the back of the house, and therefore not allowed.

It’s actually on the side of the house, and will be relatively easy for the reader to access, once they realise where it actually is.

The meter itself no longer looks very substantial.  I think it looks more like a large fuse, than your traditional bricks-wouldn’t-break black metal machine.

Sewer connection is scheduled for early May, and I think that will cause the most disruption.  An absolute necessary evil though.  After that the disruption to all around me should subside somewhat.

Exciting stuff.  The upstairs stud walls are erected.

As experienced before, having the beginnings of walls and a roof, gives a great insight into the eventual feel of the upstairs.

The architect was actually concerned, that if we weren’t careful, we would create a house with a marvellous ground floor, but a disappointing, yet still very functional, upstairs.

He was desperately trying to convince me to drop down to three bedrooms and not have a room above the hall at all, thus creating a grand stair case, a landing overlooking the hall and huge space.

While I agreed that would look great, it was too much to sacrifice, so we discussed using some of the space for a galleried landing.

It really works.  It will give the upstairs a nice reception area.  They’ll be a bit of character and personalisation with my own stain glass window design.  Which in itself will bring more light to that area that my original design.

The bathroom suffers a bit.  But it is still big enough for a bath and separate shower.  It will probably only be used by Junior anyway, and he’s only, as ofter mentioned, three-foot anyway. So it will look huge to him.

More trades are back tomorrow, I’m expecting the first fit electrics to start and the plumber won’t be very far behind.

The windows are on order, and should be made next week, for installation the following.  I think the builder is hoping to be in a position to get the plasterer in soon after that point.  To start the mammoth job, that is to put smooth finishes on everything.

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.

Last week I was off ski-ing, or more specifically, falling over a lot on a snowy mountain.

This meant being unavailable for a site visit for the first time.  Not really a problem, as the builder has got on with the build with the minimum of fuss, and hasn’t brought many many serious problems to my door.

However as I was actually on the way to the airport, a new thought crossed my mind.  It actually reminded me of a time I had a knee operation, and pre-op the nurse asked if I was worried about waking up during the procedure, and it hadn’t crossed my mind until she mention it.

What if the wrong roof tiles arrive?  They’d be on the roof before I could do anything about it, well, other than scream shout and get it sorted out.

I’d seen the samples and been specific when placing the contract with the builder, but I still couldn’t overt a minor panic attack.

It immediately subsided, and even further when my sister said she thought they looked ‘right’.  And today I was relieved to actually see that the correct tiles were in place, and what, if I may type so myself, are an excellent choice.

They complement the brickwork well, and are in-keeping with the area.  It’s especially pleasing as I originally wanted a very modern tile, or a slate equivalent.  But straight lines wouldn’t have given this property any character.

I suppose there’s never a good time to leave a self-build project alone for a week.

However as it seemed to take an age to get this one going, and at times, it felt impossible to predict when it might start, so I thought it fairly safe to book a short ski trip.

This trip is now upon me and it really has come at a critical point in the build process.

We’re nearing the end of, what I would call, phase one.  That is the completion of the shell of the property, which in turn means I have to place orders or instructions for the fitting out of the project.

Prices are still coming in, and will continue to, in spite of my temporary absence.

It isn’t obvious to me at this point which route to go down.  Should I continue on a more expensive yet less troublesome route, or should I now take the reigns on every single detail?

Hopefully the few days away will give me some time to reflect and maybe generate a plan to act through.

I also hope to come back to a shiny, well, granulated, tiled roof, a week today.

The batteries on the calculator will also get a week to recharge, and with all sorts of prices due in, they’ll be need it.

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.