Need to record this all because despite having knocked us for six I know that with a sense of perspective it will all feel better.
It’s been said many times (by us) since we arrived here that everything gets all out of perspective and feels so much more intense than it actually should. This is another of those times I reckon. If we had access to friends and family, the internet and so on then this may not feel like quite such a big deal.
So Sunday morning we were all up bright and early and by 830am we were unloaded onto a trailer and ready to go. The initial plan of digging out the bank a little to create a wider path was quickly shelved in favour of coming down the very steep side of the bank instead from the road above. The benefits should have been that it was minimal damage to the static and we got a straight run at the culvert which was the next big issue along the way.
The trouble (from my out the other side feeling of events) is that somewhere along the way it went from being our home, our everything being moved from one location to another and morphed into some sort of Top Gear challenge with a load of testosterone fuelled blokes in charge of diggers, tractors and chainsaws seeing how far they could drag a static before it all fell apart. The short answer is not very far at all. 🙁 By the end of the afternoon we had me in tears, Ady looking like someone had ripped his heart out, two kids and a dog all having been banished and kept away all day having learned more new swear words in a day than in their whole lives before and a rather bruised, battered and wheel-less mobile home that now truly was a static because it could move no further. Bleak was not the word.
Coming down the bank took out the plumbing and gas pipes from underneath, along with three of the metal bracing bars that form the chassis. The bay window base took a real beating as the tractor didn’t have full operation of it’s up and down bit so a pile of sleepers was on the front of the tow bar to try and keep it hitched but when it crashed down the bank they shot up. How we didn’t lose the window I don’t know.
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That done we realised one of the wheels was buckled and bent so a sledgehammer was taken to it and it looked a bit better. Next challenge was actually crossing the culvert which is a pipe diverting water from one area into the stream /river but was already a fairly crumbling track over it and not very wide. We used sleepers, planks and steels to brace it but the angles were just too much and further damage was done. The toughest bit was when we realised a tree was pushing against one of the doors and four of us had to brace the van away from it, which meant pushing it towards falling off into the river the other side, while the tree was chainsawed down. Excitement but not in a good way.
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We thought we were on the way from then on, the two worst bits passed but as it bumped along the killer stones on the track the damaged wheel simply gave up, the bearings came out and the wheel came off. Crunch down on that side of the van with dreadful creaking, crashing and groaning. We all ducked down to look underneath and the other tyre exploded. Ady got a faceful and has a cut on his forehead, I think he’s lucky to have his sight.
At that point I think we realised no one actually had a clue what they were doing and the suggestions that Ady and I had been sitting on because we thought we were interfering with people that were used to this sort of thing felt all the worse for being left unsaid. All the political bollocks of this island and people who don’t talk to each other had clearly had an impact and Ady went to speak to Billy, one of the contractors on the castle to see if he could offer anything. Billy and Ady returned with Billy’s big green machine which theoretically could lift the static onto a trailer so it could be got to the croft that way. Except Billy couldn’t get across the now very broken culvert in his 10.5 tonne machine.
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The static was then dragged, by digger and tractor back onto the track and everyone called it a day for the night. Leaving us with a wonky static that doors didn’t even close on, no plumbing or heating. Sandy came back and fixed up the gas and water for us. He has been a start although he is currently sober and has a real drink problem so apparently could at any time fall off the wagon and disappear. That feels very scary as he is currently the only person I am really trusting to know what he is doing. I want to shove Alasdair’s digger up part of his own body. I may be unfairly bitter towards him but I feel the need to be really cross with someone…
Rachel appeared with wine, cider and beer and sat and talked to me while Ady tried in vain to cite the static to get it level so we could sleep in it. Without wheels there was nowhere to get underneath to jack it up and with all best intentions Rachel and I were not much help. In the end we took up Claire on her offer to cook us dinner and Rachel on her offer of a free room at the castle for the night. Neither felt like what we wanted to do or had dreamed of being the case for that night but I think walking away was the best thing to do at that stage.
Ady went off to bed, the kids celebrated seven plug sockets in our room and I drank myself into oblivion down in the kitchen with the castle staff. Bad idea – when you wake in the morning all your problems are still there but you are even less able to deal with them thanks to a killer hangover. I have no real idea how I functioned at all yesterday and I’ve never seen Ady so low.
We spent the morning chasing around trying to work out what to do next, spent another £250 on a new set of wheels and used up all our favour asking. The new plan is for the axle to be returned to it’s proper shape with help of a heat torch, the new wheels to be fitted and some tuffmat surfaces to be laid down infront of the static as it is towed along on Friday. That assumes the wheels arrive on time, the axle can be made straight, the wheels don’t pop off again on the track, we manage to cross the ford and nothing else goes wrong. Theoretically we could be on the croft by Friday night. Just as theoretically we could be 10 foot further along with an even more damaged static and my parents arriving a week on Friday.
Sandy came and helped Ady level the static so we are back in it in it’s new location, we can actually see croft 2, but not quite croft 3 and we are theoretically past the worst two bits of the journey. I just can’t pull my usual ‘it’ll be fine’ out of the bag because for what feels like the first time I’ve been proved wrong and I’ve sort of lost my faith. I’m trying really hard to keep perspective – no one got hurt, the static is damaged but repairable, people came and helped and supported and commisserated and I know we have friends thinking of us from afar. No one got hurt, there is every chance it will go smoothly on Friday and I’ll be bouncing around as usual setting up home properly on the croft and waiting for my mum and dad to get here (I can’t even talk about how much I am missing my Dad without dissolving into tears, I’ve not talked to them about what happened yet because we are still in the middle of it all and I can’t bring myself to think the worse but don’t dare think anything like the best.)
I know it’s not, but this feels like the biggest challenge ever and I don’t even really know why. When I think of what we’ve been through – the money woes, the times when we were WWOOFing when Willow was struggling, somehow this just feels bigger. It feels like I’m lying to the kids when I try and reassure them everything is okay, like I’m pushing Ady beyond what he feels happy with, like I am asking more of friends I have only made in the last few weeks than it is okay to be asking. I know perspective will put this all back where it should be and one way or another the uncertainty of what will happen next will be answered by the end of the week. I know Dad will help us with more money if we need it and I know the world will still turn and it will all be okay, I’m just struggling to convince myself of that right now, let alone anyone else and when I’m the one who usually has that role I can’t quite stomach the thought of being proved a liar.
I spent half an hour yesterday sat at the top of the croft looking around and drinking in the view, the air, the atmosphere. We’ve quietly questionned whether we are doing the right thing being here and when we finally sat down to dinner at nearly 11pm last night and I remembered it was Ady and I’s 19th anniversary so the four of us toasted us it was with more than a twist of irony in our smiles as we looked at each other and said as we do every year ‘and they said it would never last’. This is a million miles from where we imagined we might be when we fell in love half my life ago and in just the last 48 hours I feel better and worse has been demonstrated. I’m looking forward to being out the other side made stronger by what hasn’t killed me.
sounds like a really tough couple of days, here’s hoping the rest goes more smoothly.
Comment by daddybean — 19 June 2012 @ 3:35 pm
I would be howling as well. I think you probably hit it on the head with the comment about people not realising it’s your home. Really hoping that’s the worst over and that Afriday brings success.
Comment by Joyce — 19 June 2012 @ 4:04 pm
Aw Ni, that just sounds awful. Lots of hugs and sympathy. Wish we could do more to help.
Comment by Jan — 19 June 2012 @ 4:04 pm
Sorry if it felt we were all nagging you for news. Sorry it’s in pieces at the mo. I guess that currently the static is (as you and Joyce said) your home and also a big slice of the whole project and your assets, so when it gets damaged a lot of you gets knocked.
Would it be possible to talk to the testerone junkies afterwards (assuming all goes well), so the list of who doesn’t talk to whom doesn’t risk growing?
Don’t worry about feeling down – it’s not human to remain optimistic all the time. Allow yourself some glumness for a bit.
I really hope it goes OK on the second attempt.
Comment by Bob — 19 June 2012 @ 4:26 pm
HUGE hugs to you Nic. We had moments like this on our travels. We lost the alternator on the engine whilst trying to cross one of the busiest shipping channels in the World (at night!) whilst Kelvin was being violently sick. I was incredibly low but held it together for the kids. It did pass though and we carried on. Things did get better and it remains one of our life lessons on how well we actually coped with things at the time. After this nothing else that went wrong seemed as bad 🙂 Give yourself some credit. You are doing amazingly well. We are all proud of you. Hxxxxxx
Comment by helen (the boat one) — 19 June 2012 @ 4:51 pm
It feels terrible because it is your home and you can’t shut the door on the world and have a cup of tea when it is corner down on a bank somewhere. It’s not unreasonable to feel like the ground has gone from under your feet in those circumstances. (Literally :/ )
(((hugs)))
Over the last couple of years when things have been bad in a serious but not fatal sort of a way, Max and I have had an ironic catchphrase to make us straighten our shoulders – “nobody died”. We normally say it before descending into a bottle of wine. And I can’t tell you how hard we’ve had to work at meaning it at times.
Nobody died Nic. Ady is okay and the kids won’t remember it anything like you will and your home will get where it needs to and it will all work out and you will make that so when you get your breath. This IS one of the low moments, as bad as it has been and I would be in bits too…. but it isn’t the end and the view will be all the sweeter for it. Regardless of how hard the next few days are, the days will pass and then you will be through them.
Lots of love and really thinking of you.
Comment by Merry — 19 June 2012 @ 5:02 pm
Have some hugs. Really hope thats the worst over with and the rest goes smoothly. Xxxx
Comment by em — 19 June 2012 @ 5:27 pm
Waaah – but keep your chin up like you always do – and what they all said. And lots of love xxxxxxx
Comment by Sarah — 19 June 2012 @ 6:46 pm
Feelings are totally understandable, even for you, Nic. That static represents your little bit of stability in your otherwise rapidly changing life, and it’s not very stable at the moment. Argh!! But it will be soon, and the war wounds it’s receiving (you’re all receiving) to get it there will end up being part of its/your history and become marks of honour. And your book will be even more gripping for it.
Much love xxxx
Comment by Barbara — 19 June 2012 @ 8:16 pm
Oh poor darling Nic, that was not a comfortable read. Everyone’s right though- and I know you know this- you will come out the other side of this and the static can be repaired. It’s just very hard (speaking from experience) to have your back against the wall metaphorically with no literal wall of your own to be backed against.
XXX
Comment by Heather — 20 June 2012 @ 8:42 am
lol, Barbara’s right about the book- some day this will make a very good chapter indeed, but it WON’T be the last 🙂
Comment by Heather — 20 June 2012 @ 8:45 am