ach . . . . I so don't want to rant, rave and otherwise complain. . . .
But: the architect is hard to understand, thinks the engineers are being "lazy", won't part with his "drawing" files (they're "his", don'tcha know?!), and seems to think that he's done everything he has to, since we got a building permit.
And that made sense to me, too, so I scheduled a meeting to find out what was up with the engineer, who's a whole lot easier to get a hold of, more amenable to actually meet with you (altho he will bill for it. . . .), who speaks unaccented English, and who tends to answer direct questions directly.
The upshot: we will try one more time to get some missing numbers out of the architect (one "Vincent Jack", by the way, in case you're considering architects, although this is hardly a recommendation) and otherwise we'll be spending more money with the engineers, who will work closely with the builder and figure out the question marks. sigh It appears that plans good enough to get a building permit for are not necessarily good enough to actually build, absent more.
The worst part? Both the king and I had to struggle with feeling bad about the whole project. I kicked that in the butt, though. Ain't nobody going to rob me of the joy of the Greenwood! So there!
I did put off taking a drive down to see the place now that the driveway is presumably in, just because I'm still a bit frustrated over the very quick halt we came to, after such a promising beginning. It was kind of gray out and I didn't want to risk any more depression. VJ called last night to advise that he'd "done another drawing" and "filled in the missing numbers" which he put in the mail.
What planet is this man from? He won't use email and hasn't heard of alternate delivery systems besides the postal service (like maybe FedEx?). Right. So "it's in the mail."
We should have done that with his cheque.