Drains

Mike the groundworker was on site when I arrived at 8.15 this morning, an impromptu meeting organised last night in order for me to talk through the positions of the stud walls upstairs. I don't know whether he owns the digger but he certainly looks at home in the seat and I can't help wondering why I chose a desk career rather than something where I could mess about with spades all day.

I was excited to see Mike because it was Mike who's misunderstanding led to the drains being removed, which means he's here to rectify his handiwork and install some drainage to the house, thus allowing us the luxury of using the toilet when we're on site rather than avoiding the blue cabin on the drive. The blue cabin has started to smell - there's no way I'm parking my bum in there - I'll keep carrying my membership card for the local gym and go there if nature calls.

As you can see, Mike has exposed some drains which lead away from our downstairs loo - as we suspected, the drains were accidentally smashed during the initial groundwork, so they need sorting out.

Dr B was stirring a curry when I got home from work. He explained that he'd met with Carl the builder and the issue of the drains had been discussed. 'We have two choices' he began. 'They can put a new drain in that trench or they can put one in the garage and feed it into the downstairs loo through the wall.' He continued to stir the curry while I turned white at the idea of the builders even setting foot in said downstairs loo, let alone breaking into it. As you probably know, the downstairs loo is sacred. It's the only room that's been done - God only knows how I'll let the electrician in there to sort out the wiring, but I suspect gin will be involved.

'Don't worry. I told them to put it into the trench.'