Reprocessed, by Matt Patterson

Something approaching a weblog

A house-moving despatch

Hello.

It's been a few months since the last one of these went out, which is kind of weird - it's indicative of the amount of time I've been out of the loop for.

New house! (And about bloody time too...) This bit of news is slightly dated (6 weeks or so), but hey - I can jabber about this more effectively than anything else at the moment... Also, in a related matter, I can confirm that Ratcliff lifts, the ones you get on vans and lorrys, are cool. As most people are aware I keep firmly in touch with my inner child, the one that likes playing with diggers and bulldozers and steam trains, and I've never had a chance to have a go on one of those lift things before, but the van Ben (Housemate/homeowner) hired had one, so I did. The van itself was a source of much amusement - it was, shall we say, rather large: imagine the conversation...

Ben: Hello, I'd like to hire a van please

Van hire man: Alright then guv [stereotypical & cliched, sorry to any van hire people out there...] what kind of van do you require?

Ben: *nonchalantly* Oh, the biggest you can drive on a normal license

Van hire man: Right you are, squire - a Luton Box, first thing tomorrow then

Ben: *confidently* Sorted.

Ben exits the van hire shop...

Van hire man: *to assistant* He wants the biggest one we got...

Assistant: Luton Box?

Van hire man: Aye

Assistant: Does he know?

Van hire man: Nah...

----Next Morning----

Ben arrives at shop, to be greeted by the Luton Box

Ben: *$£%# *@&^$*(*% @&^$

Van hire man: Lovely.

The move went surprisingly well: of all the house moves I've done in the last four years - 6 which, I know, is more than one a year - this one had the most planning poise and all the boxes prepacked and in storage. This, I feel, was the deciding factor.

After the move came the long dark days of DIY. The less said about which the better, although bringing hire equipment back on a bus was quite fun, as was choosing paint... but the level of bodgery around the place, courtesy of the previous owner, was mind boggling. Everything but the central heating appeared to have been DIYed and DIYed without the aid of a spirit level (or taste). One niggle was the wrong thing in the kitchen which took a couple of days to figure out - there are lots of cupboards in the kitchen, but no drawers. None whatsoever. Where did these people keep their cutlery? I don't understand. Embarrasingly enough it took us a few days to realise we had no can opener, and once we were reduced to hacking at an unfortunate can of tomatoes...

Things are (six weeks on) pretty much settled now. The fitted (not fixed, I might add) wardrobe in my room has bitten the dust, the attic has been floored and all the work stuff - desks, computers, old screens - have been relocated. The attic hasn't been roof-insulated yet, so tends towards ovenhood during the day, but a communal work space is a really good thing to have and when all that work is finished it'll be fabulous.

Also recently (more recently than the move) was the Lee Abbey camp preparation weekend, in coventry. There's not vast amounts to say about the weekend itself - other than how good it was to see everyone again - but we were next to the cathedral, which is a fantastic space, inspiring and humbling. The cathedral is very rare in that its an Anglican church designed by architects with a modern, rather than revivalist, agenda. The way the space plays itself out means that it transforms itself as you move around it. There are floor to ceiling stained glass panels all the way down the length of the nave, but they aren't visible when you walk through the doors - they, like the glass great west screen, are only visible when you look back down the church from the front. The side walls of the cathedral are saw-toothed, so that looking one way one side is visible (Ralph Beyer's wood tablets) and the other way another side is different (the stained glass) And, as you turn round the glass screen nearly blinds you - when you leave the cathedral you are walking into light - literally. It really is a wonderful place.

Anyway, I have the first of my finals tomorrow, so I'd better sign off.

Matt

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