LET’S PLAN IT. JANET!

I am having nightmares. Not like me as I usually sleep the sleep of the just. And oddly, considering recent events in parliament - and my abiding interest in politics – it’s not terrors of terrifying Trusses and Tugendhats, scary Sunaks and blood-curdling Badenochs – even malevolent Mordents – keeping me awake. No! it’s taps and tiles and the wood stain for the new stairs haunting my waking hours.

?

The closer my renovation project gets to completion the further out of my grasp it seems to slip.

?

And here my inexperience shows. I don’t know if this is normal – I suspect it might be - but I have now entered a state where none of this seems remotely real. I simply can’t visualise the work being over, the dust and disaster being cleared up and moving back and living in my house. The possibility of sleeping in my own bed or cooking on my new super-duper induction hob seems so far-fetched it could be pictures from the birth of the universe.

?

But it doesn’t take a high-tech telescope to see some key lessons in what I’ve been doing. And I’ve a string theory of my own – construction projects have two ends: the client and the contractor. What goes on in the middle just takes untangling. And that hangs on effective communication.

?

On the ground, I ought to have followed my own principles – after all I bang on about good communication all the time. In this case - and in contrast to my long-held view that listening is the better part of getting your message across - I didn’t speak up enough or ask enough questions. I was expecting more information to come my way. When it didn’t, I ought to have worried. Instead, I let things ride.

?

That makes me an awful client.

?

But there are no courses for clienting. Yes! big business may have well-qualified contract experts or procurement specialists but they don’t really know your business. So, maybe professionals in the construction sector need to help educate us when we take on a project – no matter how big it is. It would help manage expectations and prevent nasty shocks later on. Certainly, it ought to light up warning flares if your client is quiet and compliant. It may not mean we are happy. It’s more likely we haven’t a clue what’s going on, don’t know the questions to ask [or feel daft asking them] – and are going to be both surprised and horrified when the shape of things to come becomes clear [and difficult to fix].

?

And I also had a gross misunderstanding of risk.

?

I saw risk in terms of potential financial loss and physical safety. And there are plenty of those concerns on any project – even a little thing like mine. Where it comes to on-site safety I’ve seen things that would make your toes curl: cutting stair treads on the floor in the hall with no dust dampening or filtration far less even masks or guards on the saw; people clambering up ladders that looked like they were made from brittle driftwood; and no sun protection even as the mercury soared well over 30 degrees.

?

I was so ashamed of things on my build I lied when asked what I did for a living.

?

But – that aside - what I’ve come to see is it that there is as much risk in our attitudes as in the deployment of our skills and experience. In future we will all be judged as much by our behaviours as our qualifications. We will - in a total turn around to the political world – have to be able to ‘talk the talk’ as well as ‘walking the walk’.

?

That is no bad thing – at least in part.

?

I said I was a poor client. And that’s true. I don’t build things often so I’ve learned on the job. But the fact remains, I didn’t get involved enough, didn’t ask the right questions or explain myself properly or even check my contractor and I were on the same page. And then I threw my teddy out of the pram when I didn’t get what I was expecting. And from this I conclude that being an entitled brat doesn’t get you what you want and upsets people.

?

But here I have to call you all out.

?

I bet you forget that what is your bread and butter is as rare as caviar and champagne to me. I employed an expert because I was inexpert. But he forgot to talk to me or listen to my answers. He made decisions for me when we’d not established the things I wanted to know - and those about which I couldn’t care less. And, as an aside, it might have helped if he’d given up the macho swaggering in favour of a simple notebook and pencil so he remembered, when rushing from site to site, what we’d discussed.

?

Now, as we reach the finishing line, I am pulling him up on the details and driving him round in circles. And all because the dream I had in my head failed to be the reality on which he was working.

?

I have discovered there is more joy in heaven where there’s a client with a clear brief and a sound grasp on what is going on working in tandem with a skilled contractor who has expert communication skills and a clipboard than grand designs, bottomless pockets and any amount of fancy kit.

?

I still believe it will be all right on the night. But my experience proves there is happiness in an effective partnership and a whole shed load of grief when things break down. And that goes for all things in life - not just construction projects.