Floor

There are certain DIY jobs I'll tackle around the house - painting, wallpapering, tiling, poking things with a sharp stick, walloping things to make them work (my go-to technique, especially as far as the cats' water fountain is concerned) and other such bits 'n' bobs. However, levelling and waterproofing a quarry tile floor is something that, whilst seemingly pretty simple, is a job best left to someone who has done it before and knows what they are doing and won't back themselves into an inescapable corner with wet levelling compound which is EXACTLY what I would do because I'd go at the job all gung-ho and not think it through. Like painting myself into the top of a bunk bed. Ahem...

Mark and his assistant arrived on Thursday morning at the time they said they would which instantly met with my punctuality approval. The floor at that point looked like this...

This is the dining room. The tiles were in good nick, their look spoiled only by the 4 x 2 feet area of concrete in the corner which might once have been a pantry, for the keeping of ones pants, I believe. Bambino was enjoying the tiles in the living room. Which basically means he was eyeing up that pile of detritus with a view to rolling in it.

 

Mark and chum examined and cleared the floor and less than two hours later it had a pale grey skim across it, through which you could just make out the outline of some of the tiles. Hence the 'self levelling' component, I suppose. We were instructed not to walk on it for an hour.

Yesterday, Mark and chum arrived and set about installing the damp membrane. Oh, the smell! Like bitumen coupled with something nasty from the woodshed it was. Andy was going, 'I can't smell anything,' and I was like, 'What???' and had to waft a jar of Marmite under his nose to test his sense of smell. Honestly, you could smell this stuff half way up the garden. Mark and chum disappeared for the 3 hours it took for the stuff to set. The floor looked like this...

All shiny, but very smelly. When Mark and chum returned they opened the French windows, in fact, all windows and doors and the smell, thank goodness, dissipated. Floor set, I took the opportunity to zip upstairs for a pee and started thinking, 'Wouldn't it be a good idea if we built a downstairs loo. It could go on the side of the house next to the studio. Oooooh....we could make an outbuilding with a loo and a sink, maybe a shower. The drain for the septic tank it there, so it would be easy to do....'

At 2.15 p.m Mark and chum took their leave. We were instructed to not tread on the floor for a couple of hours, so, feeling a bit stir crazy, we went out for those hours and an extra one, just to be on the safe side.

And this morning, the floor looks like this...

All ready for the carpenter and his floor boards. 

I expect in years to come some industrious bright young things will excavate the floor to discover the beautiful original quarry tile feature beneath. They will take the time to remove the two areas of concrete, they will visit numerous reclaimation yards in order to source original quarry tiles to fill the gaps, then spend most of the year cursing how cold the tiles are under foot because the Big Heat of 2018 was a one-off. They will chuck some rugs on top of the tiles. The rugs will get all sweaty and manky with moisture. The bright young things will decide maybe a wood floor would be warmer and drier. Mark's grandson (also called Mark in honour of his grandfather. Or Marketta if it's a girl; I don't want to be casting stereotypes around) will be called to level and damp proof the floor. And the circle of renovation will continue. 

We have to wait 24 hours before bringing any furniture back in. We shall reinstall a sofa, the coffee table and the TV on its unit, and THAT IS ALL because there is no way I'm putting everything back only to have to remove it again in two weeks' time. 

Meanwhile, I shall decorate. I have ordered wallpaper for the feature walls. It looks like this...