the ups and downs...

Racing towards the finish line now. Or as much racing as can be done on legs like jelly at the end of a marathon...
Dan putting up doors and Chris fixing bathrooms, with Jill somewhere in the middle of some kinda cardboard box disaster area in the kitchen and young Jake due to arrive to work on developing the woodland garden with me...

the offending gap

Then Chris comes to see us with a worried face. We'd been tiling the bathroom till late the night before but he brought bad news: the tiles dipped in as the wall went up, making fitting the shower screen impossible. All the tiles we'd spent the previous few days s
o carefully putting up would have to be taken off. Jills face ashen and mine not much better, we sat at Jill's table, unable to think of a solution that didn't involve costs we couldn't afford or time delay we had no room for. This is what Jake arrived to witness.
Chris suggested we all gave it some time before we made decisions. We phoned Roger to let him know, whilst also speaking to a professional tiler.
So, Jill back to cardboard city and Jake with me to begin work on our 'platt' with spirits low. A platt, by the way, is a grove of hazel trees - the next part of our woodland garden.
Meanwhile Dan is eating up work, hanging our oak shaker doors admirably. 'Well hung Dan'. Apparently he'd never heard that one before.
Then Steve, our builder arrives. He mustn't learn of today's disaster but is, very luckily, diverted by a
Snickers bar I kept in the fridge for this very purpose.

new toilet with tile sample suggesting 'the ochie' line they have in darts - I beat Jill every time till it was removed

Hoeing, rolling logs until Chris calls us back. He's come up with a solution that sees the screen fixed on the existing tiles but with the fixing trim slightly angled back. You'll only really notice it when you look at it when sitting in the bath. Practical Jake has inherited his fathers DIY approach and suggests that this is easily resolved by sitting at the other end of the bath.
Jill and I needed a lingering hug at this point before returning to our tasks.
Lunch with Sherrien dropping in and then back to our work. Jake and I discover thousands of eucalyptus berries amongst the chippings we are barrowing back for the path extension. If they germinate, could Cordwood become the site of the UK's first koala colony? Bear with me...
Heading towards job done now with Jake and having some difficulty straightening after hours pushing a squeeky wheelbarrow whose wheel action sounded like my knee joints if their movement was amplified.
Roger with us now to see Chris' solution, then our Judith as the family assembled at what could have been a crisis. And our Sarah, who always brightens the day -and we've gone from the gloomy depths back up to the summit of happiness. Boxes are disappearing and the woodland garden is looking great.
With a meal at Linda and Trev's to look forward to, we prepare to leave, only to get a call from dad telling us that mum has been taken into hospital - and whoooosh, we're back down into the deep dark dip. Cancel Linda and Trev at ridiculously short notice and get ready to go over to see dad. Hang on, he's called Sarah to say that mum is coming home and is recovering but not to go over. They're tired and could do with a bit of space.
So call to Linda and Trev to re-invite ourselves to dinner (what wonderful friends) .....
End the day rather like a pair of emotional jelly fish.