The Building Inspector is a careful charming man who makes sure our plans are safe and clears up some code issues. You need fire alarms in all the bedrooms. I sign my application and pay and we are officially on the way. He welcomes us to Richmond County in French. Unfortunately I am weakened from the exertions of the day before and have discovered that my heart is 65 years old, not 35. So I am delighted when the MB decides to excavate. With sun and wind the clay has hardened and he can manoeuvre his way onto the banks of the house hole. The MB is quickly becoming an expert driver and I really admire his skill although I think he takes risks when it comes to getting too close to the edge. I sit in the windy sun on a sturdy white chair and admire his skill and realize that I have no interest whatsoever in becoming a backhoe driver. I'll drive his pick-up truck because it makes me feel like Willy Nelson, but the backhoe and the excavator... There are limits.
And in case you think I am the only nutcase on this family, please enjoy the photo of son Donagh on his pontoon loaded with IKEA stuff, rather like our Carfagnini trailer a month ago. Donagh has decided to become a part-time Lake pirate, doubling with his job at the bank. Very Group of Seven we thought.
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