STILL WAITING

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. There’s definitely scope for AI to be put to good use to invent crystal balls that allow punters to see the outcome of decisions made. A ‘sliding doors’ soothsayer ball.

Now if I’d had one of these future-predicting spheres at the point when I reviewed all cladding quotes then I might not be in this standstill situation because my magical globe would have pin-pointed this scenario exactly and I would have chosen to go with another builder. No farting about waiting to see when my project might resume.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Vlad the Clad is either a complete incompetent monkey or has memory retention issues. Either way, it’s clear that he is NOT a man of his word. The last text message received promised a return visit on Tuesday with plumber in tow.

So, when I advised him that the additional cement boards had been delivered on Monday afternoon, I was not expecting a reply as follows:

Ohhh blimey. I was told it was coming Wednesday afternoon. I’m on another job now but definitely be there Thursday to finish the job.

Right. You promised you’d be back Tuesday and once again, I’ve been bumped for another job. Bumped. Twice. Not once – TWO times!!!!!! If you’d been told the boards weren’t coming until Wednesday afternoon then why did you tell me you’d be back on Tuesday? Agreed, you hadn’t specified which Tuesday on your text but I had naturally assumed it would be the next one on the calendar.

Aaahh, now I get it. Another job. That’s why you didn’t come back to screw in the last remaining bits of timber for the cladding framework or clear all the debris from my garden which you could easily have done on the Friday whilst you were waiting for extra boards to arrive. If I had been doing this job myself that’s exactly what I would have done during down time. But no.

The grass of my lawn should have been regenerating in the cooler damper days we’ve recently had but instead is suffocating under a mountain of builder ‘tut’ currently cluttering the back garden. I have the world’s supply of wall pots to screw back into position once you lot have buggered off so that I can prepare these for next year’s planting.

Clearly you don’t seem to realise that every day of delay is yet another day that I can’t get on with these tasks which really need to be done before winter or the monsoon season sets in.

Which brings me right back to thinking about project delay penalties. Now that I have the materials on site, could I employ someone else to finish this job then pay Vlad proportionally for work he completed? Under consumer legislation what are my rights in such a scenario?

It doesn’t help that Thursday’s forecast is potentially a rainy one providing yet another excuse for further delay but my patience is now wearing very thin. Thinner than a sheet of bog paper. And when patience is thin, a volcanic eruption usually follows. I want my project finished by end of October max and God help you if it isn’t!

STANDSTILL

Seriously, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. Lord knows I have a very fertile imagination but this really does take the biscuit!

Day three of cladding and there’s still no end in sight. Good progress made today, the cladding tide now topping the bedroom window yet a long way off from reaching the apex.

Cladding has now reached bedroom window

Rewind a few hours. There’s been a steady stream of foot traffic to the downstairs loo. Either these peeps have dodgy prostrates or they can’t help but come in to admire my funky cloakroom décor. Still, it does beg the question – how do builders manage on jobs where no loo access is provided? Bucket in the back of the van?

It doesn’t help that I’m sat here clacking away on my laptop within earshot from the loo. If you tinkle, sprinkle, play a tune on your trouser trumpet or use my toilet as a telephone box then yes, I can hear everything. And I mean everything. Every little droplet hitting the pan because the one thing I didn’t include in my cloakroom refurb was music-studio grade sound proofing.

I can especially hear loud conversations to builder’s merchants pleading for extra cement fibre boards to be delivered urgently because you’ve under-estimated the amount needed for this job. And I can detect from the frustration in your voice that these are either out of stock or that further supplies are unlikely to be delivered today which means there’s a high probability that you guys won’t be back tomorrow.

Whoops!  Not enough cement fibre boards

Should have put a fiver on it. Not a dickie bird mention of this situation to me whilst on site. Ping! Is that the sound of a text message arriving? Yep, you guessed. Project at a standstill yet again, return date estimated as being next week.

If only customers could include delay penalties on trade quotes where a daily charge is deducted for every lost day of productivity because at this rate, I’d be getting this job done for free. Oh well, better late than never.

Nice and neat round the window

CLADDING CONTINUES

It’s day two of the cladathon. As nice as these guys are, I am seriously beginning to wonder about their cladding credentials.

My expertise in these matters may be zilch but I’m sure you don’t cut cement fibre boards with a jigsaw. The clue’s in the name, Numbnuts. Cement. If I was cutting those boards myself, I’d probably be using an angle grinder or circular saw with a nice sharp diamond blade. It’s no wonder progress is slow. I keep schtum as I hand over the tea tray.

And whose clever idea was it to send a 16 year-old lad to smash an asbestos soil pipe into pieces in the middle of my slowly recovering lawn without so much as a stitch of protective clothing or a tarpaulin to catch any of the debris? Really?

Our surveyor repeatedly warned us NOT to scrape, drill or crack the pipe because any kind of damage releases the hazardous toxic material for which asbestos is much maligned yet Vlad seems happy to sign a death-warrant on his pimply apprentice and contaminate my garden without a care in the world. Any considerations of potential human or environmental impact clearly missing from builder brain.

Slowly recovering lawn cluttered again

I shake my head in disbelief and go back to my knitting. Mutter, mutter, mutter. Don’t worry, as soon as you lot have buggered off, I shall be out in my hazmat gear to pick up every single little bitty piece of piping and black paint flakes, I tell myself. If I had a grass hoover, I’d vacuum the lawn just to make sure every particle of A-dust is gone.

After a second labouring day, the cladding tide has only just reached the spare room window. According to Dr Google, cladding the apex on a house takes on average one day making the productive output of these dudes look like that of a sausage dog.

Cladding tide continues to come in slowly

Has reached the window on one side

Hope you're doing something to hide those ragged edges

Back in the workplace, I’d have said this looks like a clear-cut case of ‘stringing it out.’ Perhaps this is how some trades justify charging extortionate prices for this type of work by billing you for the week instead of for a couple of days then working at a leisurely snail’s pace instead of cracking on.

VLAD THE CLAD

Bumped. How dare you!

Whilst I appreciate builders can’t control the vagaries of the English weather or be expected to expose themselves to sunstroke in temperatures that make San Tropez feel a bit nippy, I was not best pleased to be told weeks ago that my job was being sidelined in favour of a more lucrative indoor project. But such is the reality of employing external trades. If a better paying offer comes along then expect your job to go to the back of the line.

After weeks of waiting, Vlad the Clad is back with his band of merry men to finish what they started months ago – cladding the exterior side wall of the house.

‘Really appreciate you letting us do that other woman’s job first’ said Vlad, disarming me with a cheeky chappy Jack-the-lad smile in a face browner and crinklier than a sultana. Hmmphh! Didn’t really have a choice in the matter, did I? Simple builder economics. Her £6,000 job trumped mine and provided shade so muggins here just had to suck it up.

But they’re here now, ladder and towers in tow, turning the front drive into a makeshift cladding workshop whilst I pop the kettle on for periodic refreshments. And yes, stereotypically they do drink their tea ‘builders’ – that is strong and sweet.

Just make yourselves at home

Is that singing I can hear? Sounds like they’re having way too much fun out there. Too many tenors, not enough cladding. You better hope I don’t find any defects or you’ll be singing a different tune when I fail to pay my bill in full.

Whole lotta nothing going on

It’s now 3 o’clock. Vlad and his crew have mysteriously vanished without so much as a goodbye. Probably seeking shelter from the sun’s rays so they don’t turn into a pile of ash. When I’ve established the coast is clear, I venture out to check on progress.

What the ….? Three of them spent an entire day faffing about outside, crooning to Shite Radio and all there is to show for their industriousness (or lack of) is a strip of metal trim and a couple of rows of cement fibre board nailed into place. Exactly what am I paying for here?

Metal ventilation trim

All in a day's work

Hours later, a text pings into my inbox. Guess who? Yep, job is being bumped yet again as now rain is on the forecast. Seriously?  Grrrr!!!!