You can take the girl out of Yorkshire …

I write to you from the building site that is our backyard. Since moving back to the M4 corridor in March, Muddy has embarked on serious renovation plans, removing walls and extending onto the back of the house, we’re currently in the “knocking seven bells out of anything in the way” phase.

I’m sitting at my desk, noise cancelling headphones firmly on the bonce and through the office window I see Nigel in his compact excavator delicately moving great big bits of what used to be a conservatory with the utmost precision into the dumper truck driven by Will.  Meanwhile Rich is measuring things and knocking wooden posts into the floor.  Looking at the piles of dirt, whacking great holes and blue pipes poking out of the ground, it’s hard to believe that by Christmas….end of January… sometime in February… we’ll be in by Easter, the work will be complete.

I think, I’m turning into my dad, he would have been fascinated by the comings and goings, I find myself mesmerised by the dextrous movements of the excavating machine, yes the three tonne TB228 is a very versatile little fella with massive breakout force – whatever that is, very comfortable to drive too with comfy armrests and an adjustable seat. It’s knocked a couple of outbuildings down, broken up all the brickwork path and now it’s digging for victory like a small dinosaur beavering about the garden, if it wasn’t so noisy it would be almost hypnotic.

However I was rudely awoken from my Jurassic daydream, by the bleeping of the washing machine, or rather the bleeping coming out of Mud’s mouth because the washing machine door wouldn’t open.  After a youtube tutorial we achieved early success but made the fatal mistake of putting the drier back on for a bit longer naively thinking we’d be able to open the dodgy door as easily the second time – WRONG.

Cue an hour of poking about the rim of the lid with a bent knife (the electric was off) I was on the verge of asking Nigel to let Godzooky have a go when finally the door opened once more.

We’ve drawn around the point of knife entry with a sharpie pen, the question now is do we get good at opening the broken door or do we look for a replacement washer drier.  You can take the girl out of Yorkshire!