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I suppose I should potter on with preparing the cut tree branches for the recycling yard. The new chain on the saw cuts through big branches like butter.
This wide angle image was taken at 6.45am. It does not do justice to the sheer height of the towering trees. I have to look upwards to see the tops. The Field maple, on the right, has been curving outwards to find the light. I might be able to pull it upright using the chestnut as an anchor. Though it may already be too late.
The increased light indoors is amazing. The late afternoon sun shines in my eyes as I climb the stairs. Though the trees are not fully in leaf yet and the angle [altitude] of the sun will change. I can also see the birds flitting across the newly open space. The western half of the garden seems so much bigger now. It will be interesting to see how my wife's willows behave. They shot up like rockets to find the light. Now they have as much light as they want.
7.00 54F. An early walk would be a good idea. Or not. First, I forgot to put the memory card back in the camera. So I had to unlock the door and fetch it from upstairs. I thought myself safely on my way. Even managed a few hundred yards along the road. Until the camera went blank. With a completely flat battery. Grr.
So I returned home and found the spare battery. This time I headed in the opposite direction. Walking against the heavy, morning traffic to the village. Where I pottered about in the church graveyard.
It didn't mean anything. There would be no point having a plaque or a gravestone for Shirley. Its semi-permanence would eventually mean it was discarded. Simply through failure to keep up the maintenance payments. Or graves were cleared due to a lack of space. Or, worse, development.
Then there would be the church's hoops to jump through. Hurdles to be taken. To prove our undying loyalty to their tax free handouts. I took some pictures of a massive erratic stone on the slope in front of the church. No doubt a pre-Viking slaughter stone. Somewhere impressive to make human, sacrificial offerings to some other gods.
Plans to further diminish the dwindling chestnut have been shelved. I have two days to prepare the new working surface for hob and sink installation. The old working surface needs to be checked for ease of removal. It is decades since I fitted it to my home made run of cabinets. There are bound to be problems.
I had better check the kitchen set-up and cut out those holes. Even if it means using the electrician and plumber to help me handle the weight. I am afraid of snapping the new working surface where it is thinned by the huge cut-outs. It is only chipboard. So weak and still very heavy. Who knows how my old, timber framework is holding up? I might need to empty my wife's cupboards for better access.
In the meantime I can use the bathroom for fetching water for the kettle. The washing up doesn't need a formal sink. The bath will do as working surface for the washing up bowl and it has taps for rinsing. It is only a couple of days after all.
Two hours later: I have been grovelling on my knees to reach into the kitchen cupboards. I have a load of stuff ready for the recycling yard. My wife had saved every tin of paint which had ever entered the house. Plus the decades old, cleaning stuff. I have several [heavy] boxes full in the boot. I ought to add some tree trimmings in the trailer. To save an extra journey. I have removed the second sink. The main one can stay until I am completely ready.
I delivered another trailer full of chestnut trimmings to the local yard. Then had to go on further afield. To deliver the "toxic waste" from the kitchen cupboards.
I forgot to buy bananas on the way home. So I had to have sliced apple with my yogurt. I found the original grater. So now I have two. My wife did not go shopping with me in the last few years. Which meant that there were no strong memories of her being with me in the supermarkets. For years I did most of the shopping on my trike. She would make up the shopping lists. Then clean the shopping carefully when Covid struck. What could not be washed was set aside for at least a week for the virus to die off.
The decision to attack the old working surface and units was actually a good one. It is taking far longer than expected. I have had to saw the old working surface into small bits with the new saw. All because of old and rusty screws. I am half way along the old working surface now. With both sinks removed outside.
The water supply has been turned off and the tap set aside. Fortunately I fitted high quality, isolating ball valves last time I changed the tap. It is an Ikea mixer with two "proper" cross-handles. The tap was fairly recently fitted. In place of a modern, single lever mixer. Which we never really liked. So I want to continue using the present one. After it has had a bit of a clean up.
I can't take the cooker outside yet. Not until the new working surface has been lifted into place. There just isn't room for it to go underneath. I am presently re-fixing battens to the supporting carcase. Dismantling took its toll in places when the screws were immovable. Then there is the inevitable cleaning of surfaces around the cooker.
Whoops! I have just noticed the cooker is far taller than the working surface. Which means it has to go outside before the new working surface is lifted into place. This is not an easy task. There is hardly room for the cooker to go around the free end of the working surface.
This will take some planning. I have a load of crockery stacked on top. There is a large hole in the top of the kitchen cabinets. Where there was once something solid. There is more crockery everywhere else. Now all covered in dust from the jigsaw! Major washing up event required!
If I can move the new board along to the end wall I may be able to open the front hall door. Then the worktop can slide into the hall enough to make room for the cooker to go out through the rear hall. Nope. Not a chance.
I had to add 8" of wooden blocks to the nearest B&D workbench. To get the new working surface high enough. Then I dragged the cooker underneath. Onto the sack truck for the length of the hall. Then I went outside and manhandled the cooker down the steps.
It will take a one-way tour to the recycling yard on Wednesday. It needed replacing years ago. My wife would not agree and struggled on with only 1.5 "hot plates." It is/was a ceramic hob cooker.
Don't ever buy a Gram cooker. Total crap! The top rusted out under the enamel years ago. Leaving great ugly patches of black. The oven "grill" element drooped down to the middle of the oven within a short period of time. Making putting anything into the oven fraught with the danger of serious burns!
Now I have a load of washing up to do but no kitchen sink nor tap. No cooker either. So no hot plates. Salad suddenly sounds interesting. I need to find a bit of plywood. To bridge the kitchen cabinets as a temporary, working surface. Which worked fine. Covered in polythene to support the washing up bowl. Job done and far easier than camping. Now, about that salad.
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