The keys were barely in my hand before the kitchen was whipped out, followed by the bathroom, next came the floor and in the mere wink of an eye most of the walls and ceilings were gone. A veritable festival of destruction was accompanied by the usual diet of nescafe, sugar and dust all set to our favourite soundtrack of Polish radio.
Excepting the odd near death experience due to low flying plank accessorised with rusty nails being hurled from the bedroom above to the kitchen below, by way of none existing ceiling/ floor , narrowly missing head of unsuspecting surveyor below ("erm HELLO, I'm down here!" ....'Oh... Sorry Sara..." ???!!!) all went rather smoothly. Within mere days we were left with a shell of a building, a shell of a building and not a clue what to do with it...
JOKES, joke jokes, obviously! Of course we had a plan, we had many, many plans, more plans than we could shake a stick at. The challenge was determining which plan to go with, but, after much deliberation, consultation and ALOT of coffee, fags and Polish love songs (the builders, not me) we got there.
No comments:
Post a Comment