That’s the house, not us. Although the former may soon be a trigger for the latter, before escalating to “Kids, quick fetch your favourite toy, get out of the building and help me with these pit props”.
Okay, I’m exaggerating*, but the house has more spidery crevices turning up than a South London crack house, with a “get your free hit here” flag planted outside the front door. There are good structural reasons for this, and not all of them converging on the difficult conclusion that the house might be falling down.
You have to think “pre pillar” and “post pillar” in terms of when the cracks first appeared. And to that you can add “our house” and “the house it is connected too” to complete the 3-D matrix. I’m pretty sure it’s just a bit of settling, and normal house movement. Carol believes the house is running away down the hill.
Rather than use “GoogleFight” to decide who is right, we’re getting two structural engineers** to have a prod around, and provide us with some reassurance that the roof will still be above the main living space come the weekend.
This seems an ideal time to dig up all the garden (my jest that excavating to a depth of over a metre could counterbalance any subsidence didn’t get the laughs I was hoping for) and install Al’Barn-2(tm). More on this magnificent erection later.
Talking of perfect timing, we are soon to have new neighbours renting the house we’re connected too, and may have inadvertently poked with the new beam***. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to relocate to a rural location where the garden resembles a scale re-enaction of the Flanders trench system, and a dog that tends to greet people at head height.
I’m sure it’ll all be fine. Although it’s not me with the worried frown, the original house plans and a copy of the building regulations.
* In the style of “never let the facts get in the way of a good story”
** Like buses, none for ages then two turn up at once.
*** That’s the house, not the new neighbours.