My wife is out when Mark the builder is scheduled to come by to see what needs doing, so I have to show him myself. This, I know, will amount to a humiliating private tour of all the home repairs I have either left undone, or tried to do and made worse. It’s been two years since I last did this, so the tour will be extensive. Just before 11am the bell rings. It is a cold morning, but Mark, as usua...
My wife is out when Mark the builder is scheduled to come by to see what needs doing, so I have to show him myself. This, I know, will amount to a humiliating private tour of all the home repairs I have either left undone, or tried to do and made worse. It’s been two years since I last did this, so the tour will be extensive. Just before 11am the bell rings. It is a cold morning, but Mark, as usual, is wearing shorts. We start in the back garden. “Here is where I tried to cut back the ivy and install two trellis sections,” I say, “but instead I pulled half the garden wall down.” “You just need a bit of brickwork doing,” Mark says. “No problem.” “Yeah, it’s just a wall,” I say. “I mean, it only has to hold itself up.” Mark says nothing, leaving me time to consider quite how stupid this last remark was. “Anyway,” I say, pointing up. “Then there’s this thing.” double quotation mark ‘I fear the worst,’ I say. ‘Poorly installed insulation, no vapour barrier, mould already forming. The whole ceiling might have to come down’ I attempt to explain the dire state of the dilapidated construction before us, without resorting to the word pergola, which I don’t like saying out loud. “It was bolted to a board that was already bolted to the wall,” I say. “But not, I should stress, by me.” “And that first board is rotten, and it’s come away,” Mark says. “Exactly,” I say. “So the whole, um, thing, is just propped up with a fence post that was more or less the right size. That was me.” “No problem,” he says. “It’s a two-man job, unfortunately, but only a couple of hours.” I show him a few other outdoor issues, and then we move inside and upstairs to the attic bedroom and the cracked, drooping ceiling beneath the recently repaired roof. “I’m very worried about what’s behind there,” I say. “Why?” says Mark, prodding the loose plaster with his finger. “Because I went through a phase of watching a lot of YouTube videos about bad roofs,” I say. “OK,” he says. I explain that while the outsi...