Hole is Where The Start Is

There’s a portaloo directly opposite our house.

Now, for however long this gas works malarky takes, I’m going to be able to see ever time one of the workmen goes for a wee. Or worse. I’m assuming the arrival of the plastic potty pod means that the work must be starting in earnest and that no time can be lost in going somewhere else for a whizz.

Obviously, we give it a couple of days before the local youth arm of Yobs R Us has tipped it up and spilt shit everywhere.hol

This gas work is quite interesting really because it just seems to be a series of holes which fill up with rain water surrounded by yellow fences. I’ve seen the promise of pipes – every now and again one of the workmen rolls a bunch of piping from one fenced area to another, but other than that there doesn’t seem to be anything other than digging.

We’re still waiting for the hole installation team to arrive in our garden. We’re still none the wiser as to how much of the patio needs to come up, or whereabouts it will be. Other than, of course, in close proximity to the mending of the sewer pipe by Matthew the plumber – something which will probably reveal that we’ve been pumping raw sewage into the garden soil for the past few years.

In an ideal world they’ll need to take up so much of the patio that they’ll end up just fitting us a new one when they come to make things right, allowing for the inevitable breaking of slabs – which they don’t seem to make anymore – and such like.

Maybe I can convince them the gas pipe runs under the shed as well – there’s no amount of making right that will sort that leaning wooden death trap out!

We really could do with a new one…

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