After lurking around the forum for years and picking up some great info I finally joined. Thought I'd make my first post a recent (near) disaster....
Having built the workshop I have always wanted (in the form of a 12 x 10, fully insulated, power sockets everywhere - I could go on for hours.....) shed, I noticed my wife muttering darkly about the cramped space she has in her shed. To be fair, she does a lot of craft work and there was little room even for her tiny frame.
Her shed, against my better judgement at the time, was one of those 8 x 8 summerhouse thingies, that wastes 2 feet of its depth before you even start ,with a poncey roof overhang. So, I offered to make new side panels for the overhang and move the front glassed panel forward. Then I got to thinking.... I built 5ft panels instead, plus new extended roof panels to make the whole thing worthwhile. With an appropriate base frame installed the whole lot went together like a dream.
While I was putting the roof on I put a couple of cross ties in and used a prop on a trolley jack to keep everything in place. I stood back, liked what I saw and started to tidy up in preparation for the felting phase. So.. down comes the prop.... followed by an enormous crack as the cross ties detach from the roof and all of a sudden the apex is a foot lower than it started. At this point I am beginning to think about how I am going to afford a whole new shed and, MUCH worse, explain to other half that she and her precious materials are about to suffer a long term eviction. EVEN worse - the only place they could go would be into my workshop.
Nothing like adversity to bring on DIY determination. Fortunately, Son in Law, 18 stone of rugby playing muscle, is present and, once roof is jacked up again we manage to shift everything back into line. Roof trusses are now constructed out of 3 x 2 and put firmly in place. Prop removed. Everything sits just fine and I briefly consider getting said Son in Law to jump up and down on the roof to test it - discretion and howls of protest from daughter prevail and we now just estimate its potentially awesome load bearing capabilities.
Next day, time for the roof felt. I guess most DIYers know this feeling - family go out for the morning and say "wait 'til we come back to give you a hand" - but wouldn't it be nice, you think, to amaze them with your prowess by having the job done when they come back? So... up on shallow pitched roof with firmly chocked ladders, on goes the felting adhesive. So far, so good. Around to neighbour's side. Possibly due to the heady fumes of the adhesive, I am unconcerned that there is nothing much on which to chock the ladder. On goes half the felting adhesive and then, in apparent slow motion at first, I start travelling backwards. I have time to think that this might hurt. It did, but who really needs skin on their shin? At this point, the family return to find me sitting clutching my leg, next to a a bucket of adhesive floating (right way up) in the fish pond. Sympathy comprises "You bl**dy idiot! You're bl**dy 60, not bl**dy 30!"
So much for gratitude
Shed is now completed, painted, fitted out and I am really quite happy with result, as is the lady Valerie.
In retrospect, funny, but the serious point is that I slid left onto the lawn. On my right was the neighbour's greenhouse. Falling through glass is not funny - I've seen the results. Never too old to learn, never to old to do stupid things.
Having built the workshop I have always wanted (in the form of a 12 x 10, fully insulated, power sockets everywhere - I could go on for hours.....) shed, I noticed my wife muttering darkly about the cramped space she has in her shed. To be fair, she does a lot of craft work and there was little room even for her tiny frame.
Her shed, against my better judgement at the time, was one of those 8 x 8 summerhouse thingies, that wastes 2 feet of its depth before you even start ,with a poncey roof overhang. So, I offered to make new side panels for the overhang and move the front glassed panel forward. Then I got to thinking.... I built 5ft panels instead, plus new extended roof panels to make the whole thing worthwhile. With an appropriate base frame installed the whole lot went together like a dream.
While I was putting the roof on I put a couple of cross ties in and used a prop on a trolley jack to keep everything in place. I stood back, liked what I saw and started to tidy up in preparation for the felting phase. So.. down comes the prop.... followed by an enormous crack as the cross ties detach from the roof and all of a sudden the apex is a foot lower than it started. At this point I am beginning to think about how I am going to afford a whole new shed and, MUCH worse, explain to other half that she and her precious materials are about to suffer a long term eviction. EVEN worse - the only place they could go would be into my workshop.
Nothing like adversity to bring on DIY determination. Fortunately, Son in Law, 18 stone of rugby playing muscle, is present and, once roof is jacked up again we manage to shift everything back into line. Roof trusses are now constructed out of 3 x 2 and put firmly in place. Prop removed. Everything sits just fine and I briefly consider getting said Son in Law to jump up and down on the roof to test it - discretion and howls of protest from daughter prevail and we now just estimate its potentially awesome load bearing capabilities.
Next day, time for the roof felt. I guess most DIYers know this feeling - family go out for the morning and say "wait 'til we come back to give you a hand" - but wouldn't it be nice, you think, to amaze them with your prowess by having the job done when they come back? So... up on shallow pitched roof with firmly chocked ladders, on goes the felting adhesive. So far, so good. Around to neighbour's side. Possibly due to the heady fumes of the adhesive, I am unconcerned that there is nothing much on which to chock the ladder. On goes half the felting adhesive and then, in apparent slow motion at first, I start travelling backwards. I have time to think that this might hurt. It did, but who really needs skin on their shin? At this point, the family return to find me sitting clutching my leg, next to a a bucket of adhesive floating (right way up) in the fish pond. Sympathy comprises "You bl**dy idiot! You're bl**dy 60, not bl**dy 30!"
So much for gratitude
Shed is now completed, painted, fitted out and I am really quite happy with result, as is the lady Valerie.
In retrospect, funny, but the serious point is that I slid left onto the lawn. On my right was the neighbour's greenhouse. Falling through glass is not funny - I've seen the results. Never too old to learn, never to old to do stupid things.
