Skip to content

The Show Must Go On

This afternoon I went to the matinee of the J.B. Priestley play Dangerous Corner at Malvern Theatres. It’s a murder mystery play, in which a chance remark at a dinner party reopens the apparently closed matter of the suicide of a family member the previous year. More and more skeletons come tumbling out of the cupboard – adultery, homosexuality, sexual assault, multiple unrequited passions, theft, greed. It turned out that every member of the party had a part to play in the events leading up to the death, they all had secrets to hide, and had been lying to each other for years.

At the beginning of the play, the stage manager came on with a clipboard. Never a good sign! It turned out that there had been a very nasty car accident mid-week involving some of the cast members. One of the actresses playing a leading role had been hospitalised overnight and was now recovering at home; another had a very bad back and was also recuperating. There had obviously been some massive reshuffling of parts behind the scenes, but they clearly hadn’t planned enough understudies to cope with two of the four female roles needing cover simultaneously. The most minor role was therefore filled by an actress drafted in from London with two and a half hours notice! She was sight-reading from the script, clearly not having had time to do anything more than the most rudimentary rehearsal!

The cast did an excellent job in the circumstances. There was a bit more stumbling over their lines than I would expect from a professional cast, but I’ve seen far worse. The understudies had clearly prepared their parts well and been thoroughly rehearsed, and on the whole it was a testament to the professionalism of the whole company that they pulled it off. It was very much a case of “The Show Must Go On”, and indeed it did.

Cropthorne Autonomous House

I went on a most interesting visit yesterday, to the Cropthorne Autonomous House, claimed by the owners to be the most energy-efficient house in the country.

It’s a long story, which started a good few years ago, when Christopher and I were getting our extension built. We planned to replace our existing detached garage, which was made of pre-fabricated concrete blocks bolted together. It was frankly an eyesore. In fact the local planning officer told us that we were doing the neighbourhood a favour by knocking it down! However, it was sturdy, lockable and watertight, so it would have been a real waste to consign it to land-fill. Our architect said that he had another client who was about to embark on an ambitious “Grand Designs”-style self-build, and needed a temporary lock-up for the duration.

So one cold and wet January day, Mike turned up to disconnect the electricity and take away the garage. He and his partner Lizzie planned to use it as a builders’ brew room, a tool-store, and a refuge from the weather until their house was water-tight. Once the build was finished, they would pass it on, via Freecycle, and I understand that it’s now being used as a log store somewhere outside Worcester.

Mike and Lizzie had some really ambitious ideas for their plot of land. They wanted to build a house that had a minimal environmental footprint – with no mains water or drainage, no central heating, no boiler, and producing as much electricity as it consumes. I was an avid reader of their blog during the long and challenging construction process. Last weekend, the “Passivhaus” movement for highly energy-efficient houses had an open-day, with houses all over the country opening their doors to interested visitors. Cropthorne was on the list, so I contacted Lizzie and asked if I could join one of the tours.

I think that the other seven people in the tour group were all interested in building a Passivhaus of their own – they all had notebooks and pens, some had clipboards, and all were taking copious notes. One couple even seemed to have brought their structural engineer and their builder with them to pick up some tips! I was there out of sheer nosiness – I wanted to see what my garage had helped facilitate!

Cropthorne Autonomous House

Cropthorne Autonomous House

At first sight the house looks modern, but not particularly unusual. The first thing I noticed is that it’s not aligned with the other houses on the road, but is rotated to face due south. On the south-facing roof elevation you can see some solar hot water heaters, and there are photo-voltaic panels to generate electricity just visible in the garden to the far left.  There are lots of windows on the south-facing side, to maximise the solar collection, and much smaller windows on the north and side faces.

Mike took us on a guided tour of the house, including the “engine room” in the basement, and it was absolutely fascinating. The basic idea is to have a thermally-massive and maximally-insulated house so that it acts like a giant storage heater, storing the sun’s warmth during the summer, and giving it up slowly in the winter. So structurally, it’s made of a huge mass of concrete, with triply-glazed windows and vast amounts of insulation to protect the concrete core. It’s virtually airtight, so they have to use mechanical ventilation to draw fresh air into the bedrooms and living room, and extract it from the kitchen and bathrooms. They have composting toilets, which apparently aren’t nearly as yucky as they sound, and save on huge amounts of water, as they don’t need to be flushed. All the rainwater is harvested and is stored in the basement in huge vats which were originally used to import concentrated orange juice from Israel. The rainwater is slowly filtered through gravel and sand and comes out drinkable – though it needs to be pH corrected as it is surprisingly acidic.

Outside of the give-away facilities in the basement, the living area in the house didn’t appear to compromise at all on comfort for green credentials. In fact, it was extremely comfortable. There was a utility room with washing machine (best used when the sun was shining, to use their own PV-generated electricity, rather than importing it from the grid), a modern kitchen and four bedrooms. Perhaps the only give-away that something unusual was going on was that the house was “upside-down” – with the bedrooms on the ground floor,and a large open-plan living area upstairs. Since heat rises, the downstairs is slightly cooler than upstairs, which is better for sleeping during the summer. A side benefit is that the panoramic windows in the living area have stunning views out over the Worcestershire countryside. Despite the fact that it was a pretty cold day in early winter, the house was very warm inside. About 23°C according to Mike’s data-logger (everything is logged, so that he can keep an eye on the system performance) – which is significantly warmer than my house! All the visitors were taking off their coats and jumpers. Apparently, even in the depths of January the house stays at a bearable temperature, not dropping below 17.5°C even on an overcast day in the middle of winter.

Overall, it was really interesting to see such an innovative design for a house, and to understand how it functions. It clearly was a massive labour of love by Mike and Lizzie, and they are both passionate about the environmental benefits of a minimally-invasive house. It was great to finally see for myself what our garage had, in its own tiny way, helped to bring into existence!

 

One thing after another

I blame my mother entirely. She phoned me up shortly after I’d had the bathroom finished, and told me to make sure I enjoyed the next half hour – as after that I’d have to start on the next round of maintaining and renovating the house! She clearly put a jinx on it, as I’ve had a string of things go wrong this week.

First, it was the realisation that the shower in the newly renovated bathroom is so powerful that the spray reaches well beyond the end of the bath and soaks the wall (which is ok, it’s now fully tiled) and the floor (which is definitely not ok). I did an emergency trip to B&Q and bought an L-shaped shower rail to replace the existing one, and an extra shower curtain. However, there is no way that my DIY skills are up to drilling through tiles to fix the cantilevered bits of the rail, let alone adding the ceiling support to stop it drooping. I called Rob, who had been very insistent that he was happy to do home maintenance/DIY jobs for me as well as decorating, and fortunately he was able to fit me in on Monday morning. Job done, shower now water-tight, and I relaxed.

But not for long. On Thursday morning I was brushing my teeth in my en-suite bathroom when I noticed that the extractor fan was on. Odd, I didn’t remember turning it on. But I’m not at my sharpest first thing in the morning, so I could have turned it on by accident. I checked. No, it was switched off at the main switch. For the next half an hour or so it kept turning itself on and off at random, making whoo-WHIRRRR-whoo-whirr-WHOOO noises, rather like a distressed ghost. And all the time it was firmly switched off at the wall. I don’t like apparently haunted appliances, and I strongly disapprove of ones that turn themselves on when they should have no power going to them! I phoned my regular electrician and asked him to come and take a look. He’s very busy but was intrigued enough by my problem that he managed to squeeze in a call late on Friday afternoon. He diagnosed an intermittent short in the fan, which will need replacing. He disconnected the fan from the mains completely, so that now if it turns on it will be a form of Perpetual Motion machine, but won’t be able to fit a new unit until next month at the earliest.

Again I breathed a sigh of relief. But then things got worse still. I’d just had a shower this morning, when I nearly jumped out of my skin. The toilet started belching at me! It was bubbling and burping, and making the most appalling noises! And it wouldn’t flush properly, but threatened to overflow. Hmmm – sounded like a blocked drain to me. Not a pleasant job to clear, but I managed to find someone in the Yellow Pages who would come out the same day (for a rather steep price!) and try to sort it out. That meant of course that I had to stay at home all day waiting for a call to say that the man was on his way – and I couldn’t even get on with my usual weekend household chore of doing the laundry, as I wasn’t convinced the washing machine would be able to drain through the blockage!

Fortunately the company I alighted on turned out to be reliable, and a van turned up mid-afternoon with a remarkably cheery drain clearing expert. He got rid of the blockage, but then put a camera down the drain to investigate further. He showed me the video to confirm his diagnosis. I’ve got a partially cracked sewer pipe with plant roots encroaching – which is what caused the blockage in the first place. It’s not in imminent danger of collapsing, but I think that fixing that will have to go on the list of major jobs for next spring.

They say that problems come in threes, and I sincerely hope that the three unplanned tradesman visits in one week finish the cycle! And I’ll thank my mother not to jinx the house in future!

Something Big and Hungry in the Attic…..

I’ve been having ongoing problems with noises in the attic all summer and autumn. Martin (the brother-in-law of Tim my original pest controller) has been back here multiple times to put poison down in the loft to try to get rid of the vermin. In the past that’s always worked, at least temporarily. But not this time – and the scrabbling above my head between midnight and 3am is getting beyond annoying.

Fortunately, Martin is very responsive at coming round when he gets a cry for help from me. He was back again on Friday to investigate further and to top up the bait trays. He poked around in my attic as he usually does, and came back down the ladder with the news that all the bait had gone this time. Usually the mice only eat some of it between his visits. He reckoned that there was more poison eaten in a short time than could reasonably be accounted for by mice. There was something big and hungry visiting my attic. Not what I wanted to hear – though appropriately enough it was Halloween! If I’m lucky, it’s “only” a rat. The worst case would be a squirrel, which really is a very destructive creature.

Martin has put large quantities of bait down, hopefully enough to deal with all the eventualities, and suggested that I get him back in another month to check on how much has been eaten. I’m certainly getting my money’s worth out of the annual contract I have with him!

Hampton Court

My college friends Tom and Katie and their daughter were staying in a holiday cottage in darkest Herefordshire for a long weekend over half term. Since the cottage was only about half an hour’s drive from where I live, I met them there for a leisurely Sunday lunch, followed by an excursion deeper into the countryside near Leominster to visit Hampton Court. Not, of course the famous Hampton Court on the Thames, but its much lesser known Herefordshire namesake.

The Pied Piper at Hampton Court

The Pied Piper at Hampton Court

The gardens there are lovely, and the maze, sunken garden and zip-wire in the woods definitely appealed to their 10 year old daughter. There was a “Halloween” theme in the castle itself – the cellars were transformed into a spooky “haunted cellar”, and there was an opportunity to handle “creepy crawlies” – spiders, lizards etc – as well as some very sleepy looking owls. Tom and I then pigged out on a rather good cream tea in the courtyard café.

It’s been years and years since I last visited Hampton Court. Tom and Katie had never been there before at all, despite driving past it regularly on their way to visit Tom’s parents on the Welsh border. It was well worth a trip – and I think would be even better earlier in the season when the gardens are at their best.

The Fibula Event Horizon

One of the weirder concepts that I came across working through the MOOC on Hadrian’s Wall is that of the “Fibula Event Horizon”. This is apparently a recognised archaeological term, referring to the sudden and dramatic increase of small brooches (fibulae) found in late iron-age contexts in Britain just before the Roman conquest. It is surmised that it relates to a change in fashion so that clothes needed to be fastened with brooches.

What struck me particularly was the similarity of the term to the “Shoe Event Horizon” discussed by Douglas Adams in the Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy series. Adams says that when a society gets depressed, people look to cheer themselves up by buying shoes. So it becomes economically viable to build more shoe shops. However, the quality of the shoes decreases as more types are made, and so people have to buy still more shoes. This becomes a vicious circle until the only industry on a planet is concerned with the manufacture and sale of shoes – the so-called Shoe Event Horizon – at which point civilisation collapses. I thought it unlikely that Adams would have been influenced by an obscure archaeological term, and in fact it appears that he was in fact punning on the title of a Frederick Pohl novel, Beyond the Blue Event Horizon. It’s much more likely that the archaeologist who first identified the surge in fibula production was a closet science fiction fan. I’ve tried to trace the first use of the term Fibula Event Horizon, and it appears to be by a British archeologist called J.D. Hill in 1995, well after the Shoe Event Horizon appeared in Adam’s radio series of Hitchhikers in the early 1980s. So I think I can deduce what type of fiction Hill liked to read! I find it highly amusing that the term has been adopted by a load of completely straight-faced archaeologists!

“Hang on a minute! Come back!”

So Rob finally finished the bathroom and the long list of household maintenance jobs I’d given him. I got home from work to find him packed up and waiting for me in his van on the drive. We went round the house inspecting and ticking off all the items. Sapling removed from roof? Check. Gutters cleaned out? Check. Kitchen door oiled so it no longer groans like a ghost in chains? Check. Shelf in kitchen cupboard reattached so firmly that it will withstand a small earthquake? Check. Roller blind attached and working in shower room? Check. Hard-to-reach window in extension cleaned? Check. Etc. etc.

The new tiling in the bathroom looks great, and he’s really done a good job there. It’s a huge improvement. He handed back my spare set of house keys and an invoice, and in return I handed over a rather large cheque. I waved him off with a cheery “Thanks very much – see you next year!” and thought I’d try out my lovely new bathroom. It was then that I hit a problem – the door wouldn’t shut, let alone lock! That’s kind of a key feature of a bathroom: it is rather important that the door shuts! I dashed out of the house, yelling “Rob! Stop!” at the top of my voice, and was just in time to intercept him before he drove away!

He came back in to see what was wrong, and was clearly absolutely kicking himself that he hadn’t checked that the bathroom door actually would close after he’d finished painting it. And that was despite me pointing out to him on Tuesday that it was getting very “sticky” and I was finding it tricky to close it. It was only a ten minute job for him to scrape and sand away the excess paint, and to recoat it thinly. But I was really glad that I’d managed to catch him in time, as otherwise he would have had to come back specially to sort it out. Phew!

“While you’re here…….”

Rob the decorator has been making good progress with the bathroom. All the tiles are up and grouted, there’s fresh lining paper on the ceiling, and he’s made a start on painting the woodwork. However, he’s going to have plenty of time to fill in over the next two days, while he’s waiting for the paint to dry before re-coating. And since I’m paying his daily rate for him to be here anyway, I’m going to make sure I get the value out of having a handyman around the house! So I’ve made a long list of small jobs that need doing around the house, and have left it by the kettle where he can’t fail to see it.

I’ve asked him to put replace the silicone sealant on the basin in my en-suite, and around the shower in the annex, since it’s become rather grubby. He’s got sealant anyway for the main job, so that’s really just an extension of what he’d be doing anyway. I also want the hinges on the kitchen door oiled, as there’s an annoying squeak, and a shelf put back up in one of the kitchen cupboards as it keeps falling down. There’s a bit of light gardening needed on my roof (I spotted a sapling growing in one of the valleys, and my ladder’s not tall enough to reach it), and while he’s got the ladder out, I’ve asked him to clear out all my gutters too.

Perhaps most importantly, I want Rob to put up a blind in the shower room in the annex. The window looks out directly onto a wall and is not overlooked at all, so we didn’t bother putting a blind in when we first had it built, as no one would be looking in. However, since I’ve been on my own, I’ve noticed an increasing number of men seem to have legitimate business working directly outside the bathroom window at 08:30am, just when I want to have a shower! There’s Rob himself, when he was painting the external woodwork; the roofers who were fixing the rotten bargeboards; the gardener who regularly needs to weed the wall opposite the window; and of course the window cleaner, whom I strongly suspect of deliberately timing his visits to try to catch me in the shower! When there’s workmen about I have to use the weedy electric shower in my ensuite, simply because there’s a blind in that room to protect my privacy! So I’ve bought a cheap and cheerful roller blind and have asked Rob to cut it to size and put it up. I’ll feel distinctly more comfortable when that’s done.

Glass Fusing

I had such fun last year glass blowing that I thought I’d try another glass-related craft. After quite a bit of searching online, I found a one day course on glass fusing and slumping, hosted by Rainbow Glass in Stoke Newington, North London. It sounded intriguing, so I signed myself up for the one-day course for complete beginners.

The course was last Saturday, and it was absolutely fascinating! Much less technical than the glass-blowing course, and all the students’ input was done very firmly at room temperature. Glass fusing is all to do with layering pieces of different coloured glass on top of eachother, which are then heated in a kiln overnight to ~850ºC, at which point the layers fuse together. A second firing in a mould completes the process – the glass then “slumps” to form the desired shape – a bowl, ash-tray or whatever. It’s actually a pity that nobody on my Christmas list smokes, as I suspect I’ve ended up making a series of small ashtrays!

There were six of us on the course. The other five were more artistic than me, and had all done at least one course on Stained Glass in the past. I was a complete beginner – my one day of glass blowing had no relevance or carry-over at all! We started by learning how to cut glass, both in straight lines and (much more difficult!) in curves. We used tools to score the glass, then tapped it to create a fracture all the way through, before snapping it apart. The tutor made it look very easy – it wasn’t! We practiced on offcuts of glass that he got from the picture-framers on the other side of the courtyard, so that we didn’t waste any of his expensive art glass. I found it very difficult – for a start, I’m left-handed, so had to try to mirror everything the tutor was doing. And I’m short and not particularly heavy, so it was difficult for me to apply enough downward pressure on the glass. That was solved by standing on a wooden box to help me get the angle right! When you’re doing it correctly, the scoring tool makes a very satisfying crackling sound as you trace out the shape of the cut you want to make.

Once we were relatively competent at scoring and cutting glass, we were given a lecture on all the different techniques we could try. The basic idea is that semi-molten glass has a surface tension which means that it naturally tries to make itself 6mm thick. So if you start off with a 3mm thick piece of glass it will contract, and anything over 6mm will tend to expand. Each of the sheets of fusable glass was 3mm deep, and the idea was to have two layers on average over the area of the bowl. However, you could add more layers on top, put inclusions (e.g. bits of metal) in between the layers, or shape the underneath with fibre wadding that burned away in the kiln.

We were then given a sheet of paper, about 45cm square, and told that was the area we had to play with. We had to draw out, in advance, what it was we wanted to make. My mind was buzzing with all the possibilities we’d been given – there was almost too much choice, and I resolved to keep things as simple and abstract as I could! The tutor cut out the bases for us – either circular or rectangular (the glass is expensive, and he didn’t want rank amateurs making a mess and wasting a whole sheet!). We then decorated the bases with coloured glasses which we cut according to our pre-planned designs. We arranged the cut glass shapes on the bases, and when we were happy with the arrangement we tacked them in place with small drops of an organic glue that will burn away in the kiln.

Six glass bowls waiting to be fired in the kiln

Six glass bowls waiting to be fired in the kiln

Above you can see a rather blurry snap of my six pieces in the kiln. I’ve stuck to a pretty basic palate of blues, aquas and greens. You can’t see from the photo, but the top small square of glass is sitting on top of some abstract shapes made from fibre wadding, so should flow over it when heated and take on the impression of the fibre shapes. That’s the idea anyway. The others should be more a case of “what you see is what you get”. However, I’m not personally going to see them for several months – I’ve asked for them to be packed up and posted to my parent’s house, to be unwrapped next time we’re all together as a family – which probably won’t be until the New Year.

Bathroom Chaos

My house has been in an ongoing state of chaos for the last week – I’m having yet more work done on it. This time, it’s the main bathroom, which has barely been touched since we moved in over fifteen years ago. We had it rewired, along with the rest of the house, as soon as we moved in, as the original rubber-insulated wiring was downright dangerous. And we slapped a coat of paint on the walls to cover up the particularly unpleasant shade of turquoise that the previous owners had chosen. Apart from that, we left it as we found it, as we had higher priorities for our limited renovation budget.

I decided back in January that this would be the year that I finally dragged the bathroom out of the mid-1950’s and brought it more up to date. I don’t need or want a whole new suite – the crack in the sink is barely noticeable and there’s nothing wrong with the bath. Earlier in the year I had an extractor fan fitted, a new loo (to replace the one that kept dripping) and a heated towel rail – but each of those were only one-day jobs. Now though I’m going for the biggie – Rob my trusty decorator has been re-tiling all this week, and will be grouting and repainting for much of next week. I absolutely hated the tasteless turquoise flowered tiles that the previous owners had used as a highlight in the bathroom – more of a lowlight in my opinion. So I’m very glad to see the back of them, despite the chaos. I’ve chosen some fairly plain marble-effect white tiles, and already it’s looking much better.

When the bathroom is finished next week, that will mean that every room in the house has finally been updated at least once. Which probably means that it’s time to start afresh from the beginning!