Thursday, 7 July 2011

My git of a bloomin' bath


My life over the last week.

The smallest, simplest of jobs can turn out to be a bit of a nightmare. Last Saturday morning, I thought I'd quickly strip off the old sealant and reseal around our bath upstairs. It'd gone mouldy over the years and I thought I'd be able to finish the job before the morning was out. How wrong I was.

To cut a very long story short, I'm still deeply engrossed in the saga, having had to take out the entire bath in order to get in there and do the job properly, and then re-plumb it back in again. Life seems to have been dominated by this task ever since Saturday morning, with what has seemed like every spare moment going towards it, including the all important 10pm to midnight slot every night. Not good.

You can't imagine how pleased I was, having managed to get the taps off and on again without tap spanners (a miraculous achievement), having scraped off all the old sealant with a Stanley blade (no mean feat), hacksawed off the old bath trim from the wall, which had been tiled in under the tiles, with only the blade of a hacksaw, as the whole saw would never have got close enough to the wall to do the sawing (a pig of a job), bleached down everything (nasty), scrubbed with White Spirit to get the last bits of sealant off (smelly), re-grouted the tiles while I had the chance (yeah, smooth), to get the bath back in on Monday, ready to fill with water and apply new sealant.

The length of that last sentence may give you some idea of how long this has taken, which when squeezed into the spare moments in life, takes no small amount of effort.

Anyway, the bath was in. Here we go. Having done all the usual checks for plumbing leaks, and found none, I was well happy. So I got the bath filling up, ready to do the final sealing, and thought I'd just have one last quick look underneath to check all was well. It wasn't.

There was a crack in the bath itself.

Poodles! That meant I couldn't reseal the bath yet because it ought to be filled with water whilst the sealant is applied and dries (it's a weight thing).

It was an old crack, the kind that has been repaired years ago and has never caused any problems since (Superglue did the trick). The kind you just get used to and make friends with over the years by rubbing your right big toe on it whilst having a shower. The kind you never expect to leak again. It was a friendly leak. But it chose now - yes, now of all moments - to rear it's ugly git-shaped head again. Now, I tell you.

Right, I'll make a patch, I thought (my dad's idea, actually - the same person who told me Superglue perishes in water over time ...). Some plastic membrane, shed loads of Stixall (wonderful stuff, Stixall). Slap it over the crack from underneath, whilst reaching impossibly under the bath (yes, the crack was on the far side - had to be, didn't it). Check it Tuesday. Still leaking. Patch on too far to the right. Make another patch. Slap it on. Check it Wednesday. Still leaking. Second patch too far to the left. Poodles! Make a third patch. Slap it on, bang in the middle of the first two. Check it Thursday ...

And so it's now Thursday and I dread checking it tonight.

Currently, everything in life feels a bit like this git of a bath. A bit uphill, shall we say.

But then again, I wouldn't want to 'absolutize the present' or anything.

It'll get done. But it's still a git of a bath.


n0rma1 said...

Oh dear. But when it's all finished, the part 2 post can contain lots of wonderful, uplifting, parabolic insights drawn from your experience ;-)

s0upy said...

Yeah, good idea. When (if?) it's over, I may just do that.


Life is good.