15^th November

There is a spooky silence. Silence in this building is spooky because it has become so unexpected. The entire house seems to have drawn an inward waiting breath. Wait on, I fear.

Yesterday was a day of phone calls, emails, exchanges of suggestions – though the Irish structural engineer didn’t make suggestions: he was intransigent. Either the spine wall stays at it is or you have the frame. Don’t talk to me till you have all decided. It was only when the Scottish architect looked again at the drawings the drainage people had sent that he saw the line of the drains dips enough for the steel frame to sit above it. All this was sent to the engineer. Now we wait for his drawings because until they come through there is nothing left here for the builders to do. Not a Pole in sight, although one arrived wistfully, or obediently more like, first thing only to be called off by the boss. This one, the one who arrived is called Sebastian. He is shaven-headed, tall, as entirely covered in tattoos as I can see (mind you the boss has a fair few),  and says almost nothing in any language to anyone. But he’s genial, and once he gets going he doesn’t stop. He puts the Duracell bunny to shame.