Watching too much telly

F**k-a-bout!

I was going to go into one of my usual rants about how the British public shouldn't be allowed to have any say in the outcome of a reality show (see America for details) but there's no point. Forget the quality and feel the telephone revenue instead. And so, Maxwell (love him or hate him, you couldn't ignore him) walks into the sunset leaving behind Science, a man who needs an ego-boost like Jordan needs a breast enlargement.

And Vanessa is starting to do my nut in. So much so, I've even tried to work out how much it would cost me to travel down to the studio and throw some tomatoes at her when she's evicted (please, let it be soon!). I can't abide her. I don't think any other contestant in the history of this show (both here and abroad) has come anywhere close in the annoying stakes. The way she talks has the same effect as nails on a blackboard to me.

On the Barns front it's still all-go. I can't go into the specifics, mainly because I don't understand them, but things are definitely moving quickly (I'll be posting some photos later this week). And as amazing as this may sound to anyone who knows me, I actually got my hands dirty last weekend. Yep, I climbed onto a roof and hammered holes into sheets of asbestos which I then tore down without the aid of a safety rope or mask. It might save money in the short term but I think I may have shaved a couple of years off my life too...

I didn't want to get involved, of course, but when everyone (and I mean everyone - even the kids) decide to spend the hottest July in recent memory up to their necks in bricks and mortar, well, there's nothing else you can do but join in.

It's not all bad news though; on the weekdays we leave it to the "daft lads", a group of young Irish teenagers who are a bit like programmable automatons. For example, if you gave one of them a shovel and you told them to dig a hole you could come back two days later and he'd be halfway to Australia.

We must have gone up in the world. We have slaves and a swimming pool. Well, an inflatable pool (technically, it's too big to be called a paddling pool but 'swimming' is probably pushing it).

Today was slightly surreal experience. There I was, sitting in said pool watching a couple of rabbits running through a corn field, while less than 200 yards behind me an Irish navy is using a JCB (which broke my bloody patio!) to pull down a wall.

Thank God for iPods.

And finally, to everyone who has emailed me to ask where the next Tachyon TV update has got to - go away! I'm busy!

Barn Update

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

Picture the scene: I’m sunbathing in glorious weather, my view is the unspoilt rolling countryside, I can see a couple of rabbits frolicking in a nearby cornfield and a squadron of swallows are dive-bombing for worms.

Sounds idlyllic, doesn’t it?

Until I mention that the place also stinks of cow shit, the sound of pneumatic drills and saw cutters are drowning out my iPod, and my hayfever is so bad I feel like I have pneumonia.

And then there’s the wife who wants to do everything, from hoisting timber to carting bricks. She tells me that I don’t have to take part if I don’t want to but how can I just sit here and relax when everyone else if up to their elblows in sand and cement? It’s a tough call.

It’s all go at the moment. After a year spent twiddling our thumbs it certainly feels like we’re making up for lost time. We really are a building site now. I can even imagine what the hell it’s going to look like for the very first time.

It’s been a rough journey so far – spiralling budgets, skiving joiners, adamant building inspectors, family disagreements and the odd head-in-hands moment of despair; and we’re less than a month into an 18 month project. Suddenly having a phone pales into insignificance.

I’ll be honest with you here – I haven’t got the faintest idea about what the hell is going on. It’s all down to my wife who is currently working on the 29th draft of the floor plans with work already well underway on the foundations (or something cement based). I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Sometimes I’m simply too afraid to ask her.

Anyway, expect more detailed Barn updates as the build progresses. Assuming I can get Sue to explain what the hell has gone wrong this time. I have a feeling that it’s going to be one hell of a year…

Barn Blogging

I haven't blogged about the Barns for ages. But things are starting to move fast. Frighteningly fast. It's actually nice to hear the sound of bulldozers and hammering while I struggle to watch Loose Women (the best daytime show - ever!). It's been very hectic over the last few weeks, with massive arguments, last-minute decisions and some very worrying glances at the budget.

I've been out taking photos of the Barns today - a big change from the last time, I think you'll find. You can access them by clicking here or by heading to the photo gallery links on the left.

I never thought I'd ever say this again but things are starting to look up, although there's more destruction than construction going on at the moment.

And it still looks like a bombsite.

The Barns My Destination

After nine months of legal wrangling and several false starts we have finally bought the Barns. I am no longer technically homeless.

Now comes the really hard bit (!!!) - converting the damn things...

Damn, I just realised that I have to start paying a bloody mortgage again...

Season 2 is Go!

Just heard that Battlestar Galactica has secured a second season. First, Enterprise gets canceled and now this! There is a God!

Or is there...

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I said we'd signed for the Barns and barring any catastrophes we'd complete around about now? Well, go on, have a guess.

I can't go into specifics - just in case these Luddites know how to use Google - but it's all gone PEARSHAPED. I wrote that in capital letters and it still doesn't seem adequate to express how much of a shock this news is. It's not over by a long shot yet, but christ on a bike - this is turning into a joke now.

Still, to quote Max and Paddy: "best of all we don't pay council tax". The fact that were are now officially gypsies is neither here nor there.

On the TV front, a quick plug for a wonderful documentary series on BBC4 on Wednesday nights called Death on the Stairs which shows in painstaking detail what happened when a writer was accused of murdering his wife even though she (apparently) fell down the stairs. It's not sensationalistic, or glossy, just very, very compelling. The degree of detail it goes into will blow you away. The scene where the son had to stand in her blood stains while playing a tape of an actress screaming for help so they could ascertain whether her pleas could be heard by her husband outside was very difficult to watch. Try and catch it if you can.

Better Late Than Never

For those of you who have been following the soap opera that is my life, today was a good day.

After six and a half months, a road dispute, a telegraph pole, three recalcitrant farmers and the almost Zen-like incompetence of British Telecom, today we finally signed the contracts on the Barns.

Final completion should happen within the next 14 days. I would like you all to pray with me that nothing goes wrong between now and then. Between us, I know we can do it.

And finally, is it just me or is little Den Watts a Cylon?

Red Letter Day

We received a final reminder from BT today. For our broadband service. You know, the one we can't get. If we don't pay it immediately they'll cut us off. I don't know whether to laugh or cry...

Thankfully, there's been some good news on the Barns front - we finally sign on the dotted line next week!

Of course, this is the fifth time I've written that sentence in this blog in the last six months, so we'll just have to wait and see. I've probably just tempted fate again.

It also marks the beginning of the documentary we'll be making which will start with Sue's younger brother's family moving into the compound with the delivery of their caravan on Sunday. It's just a shame that we didn't get a camera sooner so we could have made that Michael Moore style expose on British Telecom.

And finally, I just want to make it clear that I once went to a Fancy Dress party dressed as a Lucifer, but I have never, ever sacrificed a small baby or a virgin. Well, not that night anyway.

Phew

Bloody hell, that was close.

Went to bed at 3am thinking the meteorologists had got it all wrong only to be awakened at 6am by the worst storm I've ever seen. How we didn't get blown apart is beyond me. It looks like the Barns sheltered us from the worst of it but it was a terrifying couple of hours.

Trees are down in nearby fields and the farmer next door has a whacking great hole in his roof.

It looks like we had a very lucky escape.

Wind

First, the good news: the reverse psychology seemed to work and we have a phone line again!!! Whooo-hooooo!

Now, the bad news: it's so windy up here we might have to leave the caravans and head for a hotel.

Last night felt like I was trying to sleep in a blender. Tonight it's supposed to be twice as bad. We've already heard reports of other caravan roofs flying off and I am seriously concerned.

And what's worse is that we can't even insure ourselves as we don't technically own the land we are pitched on.

So, we might lose it all. Overnight.

Christ, I need a tab.

Wish us luck...