New year, new roof. Or at least that was the plan when we asked Gub to come and do some work on the B&B. You may remember him from previous posts. The soft talking, roll up toting, bitten nailed patron saint of builders. A one man (and his collie dog) band who rumbles up in his pick up, tools rattling with a selection of cheeses for his lunch. In the past he has taught us (well The Husband) how to lay hedges, built the most architecturally gorgeous set of curved steps, made a life long friend in Youngest Son by sharing his Crunchie and saved us from B&B ruin by fixing the boiler.
He is my angel and life hasn’t been the same without him. So was thrilled to find the B&B roof had sprung another leak giving me the perfect excuse to kidnap him. Entirely on the understanding he said that it would only be a two day job with roof work and no deviation into further maintenance. He looked me in the eye and I scurried off to do him a quick batch of flapjacks.
I am pleased to report that we didn’t need to replace the roof in the end. Gub fixed it with £20 of new bolts and a tidy up of the guttering. That’s the sort of chap he is. But I couldn’t just let him walk out on me like that. After a couple of hours. So a week later we have a freshly painted B&B, a new kitchen window, an old flue dismantled and the outdoor paintwork rubbed down and treated.
I don’t know when he will pass this way again, but when he does I’ll be ready. With a list and a Victoria sponge. And something to puncture his tyres with.