Blue

*Warning... this blog contains themes of an adult nature and language that may offend some readers*
I got home yesterday to find Graeme walking out of our front door with a face like shite. Apparently the power cage had come... something was wrong and he'd be back soon.
About 40 minutes later, he came back with an angle grinder (whatever the hell that is!) and said that one of the legs of the cage had to be shortened by about an inch or it wouldn't get up the loft stairs. His face was still like shite. The bloke who was delivering it had been waiting an hour for him as Graeme had had problems getting away from work on time, and so Graeme had said he would just assemble it himself so the delivery bloke (who apparently also had a face like shite) could get back to Manchester.
Realising that swear words were probably going to be invented for this little expedition, I decided to take the dog out and avoid the fallout.

It was a great walk, we went up some really steep hills and the dog looked as knackered as me. Unfortunately he's only a month away from "The Snip" and it shows... he humps everything (whether it moves or not), has decided he doesn't know how to walk on a leader, mouths all the time and just seems to have an air of insolence around him. We knew it was coming... we just didn't realise it would be this bad. Well my lad... 4 weeks to go!!!

So, I got back and went straight up to see how Graeme was progressing. He'd done one of the legs and I have to say what a marvellous job he had made of it... you couldn't tell anything had been altered. The fact that I had a huge gowge in the wall on the way up to the loft didn't enamour me, but he will get some pollyfilla and sort that out, he promised!

Just as I'm thinking all is going well, I hear "Awww, for fucks sake"... apparently the door has to be taken off so the first part can get upstairs. Then "Fuck me, does nowt ever go right"... the banister has to come off too.
I scurry away and leave him to it. Offers of help have him irritatingly saying, "No" to me.

It's been about half an hour, and I've heard the angle grinder again (obviously on the other half of the frame). It all goes quiet so i pop upstairs and ask how it's going. I get a cheery "Yeah, yeah, not bad"
And there it is... in it's full glory! What a fabulous piece of equipment, and it looks awesome, fits up there perfectly and makes the loft REALLY look like a gym now.
My only worry is... What do I do on Monday when the treadmill comes, because he has to put that together too! *Cowers at the thought*