Smudger Snippets
Created | Updated Mar 18, 2004
I suppose it's because I have so much time on my hands these days, that all these memories come flooding back to me.
The Fall
It was way back in the early eighties when my parents had bought a large property in the High Street of our home town with the intention of converting it into a restaurant and a guest house. My Dad was still running his ice cream van, and my mother ran the café from the same building where we all lived. The property was basically derelict and in a poor state of repair and my Dad had to have it surveyed in order to raise a mortgage on it.
The survey pointed out that the chimney on the gable end of the building needed restoration straight away before the mortgage could be granted. So my Dad contacted a local builder who came round straight away to discuss the job with my father. He informed my Dad that it would cost a lot more if he had to scaffold right around the chimney, so my Dad told him just to do a partial scaffold and that I would manage to do the pointing at the opposite side. All this was in order to save a few pounds, as they needed every penny in order to complete the restoration.
In fact, most of the work was done by us in a bid to cut the cost of the entire job, and that is when I learned all my DIY skills from my Dad and the lodgers at our house who, in fact, were all too willing to help as well.
One of the lodgers was actually a joiner who was presently out of work and so he ended up working on the restoration full time, rather than paying his rent. Most of our lodgers had spent so long living with us that they were practically family and all were willing to lend a hand. I learned a lot from their skills in all aspects of the job; from cementing to electrical wiring. It came just at the right time of my life for me, as I had just left school and was waiting for my course at Inverness Tech College to start, I was fifteen.
So the cement mixer arrived, as did the scaffolding, then the work on the chimney stack at the gable end started in earnest. The job had to be completed over the weekend as the surveyor was due to return on the Monday to inspect the work prior to reporting back to the bank.
In a bid to save even more money, my parents had devised a way of communicating over the phone without actually picking it up; it was a case of two rings, then hang up. This meant 'return back home'. It was around mid afternoon when my Dad and I arrived to see how the job was progressing. The workers were just coming down after completing all that they could from the scaffolding. They told us that they were finished, that the only part they could not reach was around the far side and that they had left enough cement for us to complete the job.
So, after filling the bucket with the cement, I started the climb up the scaffolding to the chimney some four storeys above the ground. When I reached the top I realized just how high up I was as I started to pull up the bucket of cement on the pulley wheel. Then, with one hand clinging on for dear life to the scaffolding, I reached as far as I could to start pointing. Sometimes my legs and arms would go into an uncontrollable shake as I put all my weight onto one limb in order to reach some areas. It was a warm summer's day, yet most of my sweating was due to my nerves and nothing to do with the heat of the day.
The job took about thirty minutes to complete. I was just cleaning up the area on the scaffold boards after finishing, when I heard the phone ring twice. 'That will be your Mom looking for us', my Dad said as he turned to walk away down towards the back gate, telling me to hurry up and come down. In my rush to catch up with him I lost my footing and slipped off the scaffolding!
In my desperation to prevent my fall, I grabbed the rope we had been using on the pulley to bring up the bucket of cement. Unfortunately it was the rope that brought the bucket up towards me and, as I frantically grabbed and pulled on this rope to save myself, the bucket was coming closer up towards to me. It looked like a scene from a cartoon where you just know what is going to happen next!
I looked down at where I was about to land and it looked as if I was heading straight on top the cement mixer. Then I looked towards my Dad who was still walking towards the gate. Although I could see him, I just could not shout out - it was as if I had lost the power of speech.
Then I met the bucket on its way up! It caught me under the chin, throwing my head back and, luckily, changed the direction of my fall. It was with one loud thump I landed on my back, right on top of the pile of sand next to the mixer. As I hit, the breath was knocked out of my body, and the lights went out.
I have no idea just how long I was out for; all I remember is opening my eyes to see my Dad leaning over me. I thought for a moment that I was in heaven as the sun seemed to form a halo around his head as I lay there looking up. Then he asked me why I was lying about in the sand when my mother was waiting for us back home. I got back on to my feet, dusted myself down as I looked up to where I had been just a few seconds before!
My Dad had no idea what had happened, as he was walking away at the time, but we both had a good laugh about it as we made our way home. He did tell me not to say anything to my Mom about it as he did want her to worry.
The surveyor arrived on the Monday, and passed our work as satisfactory. This gave my parents the go-ahead to borrow the money to complete the renovations which took us eighteen months to complete. The restaurant and guest house both opened on time and, as far as I know, the chimney stack on the gable end is still standing!
