Tom told me that while the small area of wood floor I saw on Sunday was in poor condition - warped and barely supported by the struts - the flooring they ripped up yesterday was appalling and looked worse than an Englishman's teeth. He then discovered that some of the floor struts are 'floating', meaning they don't hold anything at all up, aside from the prayers of the people who were walking across them.
It was a busy day.
The chandelier is still holding the room together.
A small place to stand when rearranging the ceiling.
The little house was hiding the history of many families.
My first thought today was that not much is left of the original building and wouldn't it have been better to raise the place and then drop a modular home on the site (but that would have cost double if not triple the budget) - I was feeling worried, call that scared witless, by the complexity (to me) of this project; however, having spent nearly all of my working life deciding on very flimsy data where to spend enormous sums of other people's money without a second thought, I think being scared witless is a good control mechanism when it comes to ours.
I guess that means the loo and sink are going to be very simple affairs. No Philippe Starck stuff, more along the lines of the public toilets you find in Istanbul. What do you think Emily?
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