Here's the outline:
Some weeks ago my mother phoned to tell me, amongst other things, I can get my loft insulated for FREE. She's seen it on a website and the people next door to her are having it done NOW.
I don't believe in a free lunch but when I investigate I discover it's true - as long as your loft/wall space isn't bigger than.... they quote some dimensions I don't recognise.... and I think, that's their get out clause, that probably describes something no larger than a Barbie House. But I fill in the online form and someone rings and books a date for a surveyor to come.
On the appointed day we wait in, he doesn't come.
I get a call mid way through the afternoon telling me he broke his hand, they'll have to rearrange. When would be convenient? Today was convenient, the rearranged date will be inconvenient. They don't follow my logic.
On the rearranged date the surveyor calls. Takes out a laser measuring device and proclaims that I DO qualify. Now I feel like I live in a small house. A date is arranged for the insulation to be fitted. But the loft must be cleared out. Completely.
Whilst some people choose to load the detritus of the lives in their garages we have, over the years, put more and more stuff above us, in the loft. A ton of crap. The Sunday before Insulation Day the loft is cleared. Me, my wife, my kids, humping boxes, tables, lamps, carpets, files, more files, even more files, old scripts, old bags, suitcases, Christmas decorations, more files, curtains, curtains, poles, curtain tracks, boxes full of music, cases full of linen and more files. And so, so much more. Everything we have chosen to forget is now laid out in front of us; filling spare bedrooms, filling the hallway and the landing, filling the conservatory. I'm tripping over things on the stairs, walking into things in the night, this is what our home would look like if we hadn't shifted it to rest, forgotten, above our heads. Don't throw that away, it might be useful has suddenly become why did we keep this crap?
But we don't panic because Insulation Day is almost here. Then it can all go back.
Insulation Day dawns. Excitement in the house. The kids go off to their schools, Mrs Lewis to hers, when they return we can put it all back.
Cut to eight hours later, Mrs Lewis wants to know why it can't go back. Because they brought the wrong depth of insulation. Why? Because the surveyor told them we didn't have any insulation up there. Why? Because he's an eejit. So, when are they coming back. They'll phone, rearrange. And there's one other thing...we can't put it all back without boarding out the entire loft. Why? Because we can't rest this stuff on the new insulation. Why? Becuase it's against the rules. What rules? I look sheepishly and try to remember what the Insulation men told me in the minute detail that will satisfy the forensic mind of my wife. I can't. But I do remember that we will have to board it out and that means we have to raise the joists. What does that mean? Make the joists higher. Yes, I realise that, but how?
I run to the Internet. Raising joists...Christ. I can't do that I had an operation on my arm, ten weeks ago. And even if I hadn't I still couldn't do it. I make some calls. HOW MUCH? Jeeze, suddenly this free insulation is looking like a really bad deal.
We hatch a plan which entails getting rid of two thirds of The Crap, as it has affectionately become known.
That's when we started to go through things, piece by piece, box by box...and wait for the call from British Gas. No call.
To be continued...
Any news?
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