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Archive for May 5th, 2009

That was the verdict (in the most scathing tone possible) of my builder on the kind of people who live in houses like mine. I’m don’t think he meant to be rude, and I’m not absolutely sure he’s noticed my own lurking sock, but he has me bang to rights. It’s a fair cop, guv.  After all, I care about the environment, the food I put in our mouths, the television I put into my children’s minds, the aesthetics of my home, the moral and ethical standpoint of the supermarket I go to, and so on and so forth to infinitum. It makes even me weary. The builder meanwhile, is a perfectly nice bloke, and no fool, but “don’t get me wrong” (to quote his favorite expression), I don’t think he worries about how many sweatshop-employed-pre-teens it took to make his t-shirt.

Not that it was all that hard to get my measure, mind you: I’m the all-organic imbecile who wanted to make the windows myself and have him fit them. I wish I had, He dissuaded me, and I caved in and accepted the evils of uPVC. Oh, was I ever wrong. I’m going on the record to state that I think we’ve made a HUGE mistake and are going to have a hideous eyesore (french doors, that will more PVC than glass) where we could have let well enough alone and left the perfectly acceptable window in place. So, yes, we will enjoy the better access to the garden – IF we have that fine summer they’re threatening us with- and the view will be improved, assuming (and this is the part I wasn’t bargaining on) we leave the doors open all the time. Otherwise we look to have introduced an entirely unnecessary PVC column into the back wall of the house. Smart thinking indeed. Ah well, we’ll see when it’s all done. Maybe it’ll be less dire that I anticipate. But, it will be what it will be, I suppose, and I have to remind myself that we were limited by the budget. Yyes, I’m sure we could have had exactly the perfect solution (maybe not even, maybe only closer to it); we just couldn’t afford it. Having an eye which rarely matches the budget can be a curse at times.

Now excuse me while I take a trip up and down the road looking for other like-minded “yoghurt knitters”: I haven’t noticed that many in the last three years, and I’m sure my neighbour (who grew up within half a dozen streets of the builder, incidentally) wouldn’t appreciate the title.

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