Day 17. 92 pages, 40,698 words. Well that was a crap weekend for writing.
On Saturday, we formed a little posse – specifically my father-in-law, Vuta, Ville and me – and headed out to pick up a leikkimökki – a cubby house – from a stranger’s yard. My father-in-law had found it online, offered free of charge provided we came to pick it up. With this in mind, he’d gathered together a big mess of straps and winches, and rented a trailer, and so off we went. There were a few false starts as we visited the hardware store for two-by-fours and obviously we had to rent the trailer, but eventually we got there.
I thought it was just going to be the usual little garden cubby house, about the same as the one we got rid of a few years back. Little did I know how gigantic the damn thing was going to be. It was more like a little house, a granny flat.
One part cubby house, one part granny flat. Now, perhaps, you realise why I have called it “the Grubby Flouse”.
And there were 300 kilograms of tiles on its roof! I only started taking pictures after we’d lifted them all down and piled them up, but they were there.
So, first we took off the tiles and piled them up, like I said. Then we ran straps around the Flouse, connected them to the trailer, whopped a couple of two-by-fours down, and winched that fucker up onto the trailer. I’d thought there was no damn way. But what the Hell, it worked.
The original owners had built the Flouse on-site and with no intention of ever moving it, so it took a bit of yard with it when it came out. Also, it ripped its back wall off a tad. But that was okay, we figured pulling it off the trailer at the other end would push the wall back on. The walls, incidentally, were insulated and clad and generally like actual proper walls, not just leikkimökki panels.
Then we loaded all the tiles into the Flouse, and trundled the big bastard home. And, of course, unloaded the tiles again. The next job was dropping the Flouse into our own yard.
Wump was pleased. She’d always wanted a Grubby Flouse.
We originally planned on tying the Flouse to a big rock in our yard and then just driving the trailer out from beneath it. So that’s what we did. Not much point having a plan if you don’t stick to it, right?
“Stick to the plan.”
– Someone who died sticking to the plan.
But the car – weighed down by the trailer for minimal front-tyre traction – couldn’t handle it. So we tied the car to the carport, and winched it forward as it drove. What could possibly go wrong?
“Nothing could possi-blye go wrong.”
– Itchy and Scratchy Land employee.
There was no actual tension on the cables while Wump was squatting there, by the way. But hey, anyway, it worked.
That got the Flouse to the edge of the trailer. We set up the two-by-four ramps again and ended up having to chainsaw off the bottom parts of the cladding around the Flouse, because it was lower than the Flouse foundation and was catching on the ramp, just like it had caught in the dirt when we were picking it up. And it did sort of push the wall back on, but not very well.
I think the trailer only got slightly chainsawed.
In the end, we got the Flouse down. In the process, there was a lot of dicking around with rocks for the new foundation, and a lot of sitting on super-high-tension two-by-fours to prop up the Flouse while people put their hands underneath it in a really ill-advised way.
I decided not to publish any of this until after the fact, specifically because it would have made Mr. BRKN cry.
We still need to replace the temporary foundations using a jack, but this will do for now.
Then on Sunday, I put the tiles back on again while Mrs. Hatboy and Wump passed them up to me, and we got the darn thing finished. Just in time for a nice Vappu barbecue.
My father-in-law described it as one of the crazier things he had ever done. This is a lofty title.
The Grubby Flouse is now open for business as a Bar Äijä’s overnight hostel.