Today, I thought, the down pipe and soil pipe would be replaced by something sleeker. The new toilet would be moved along the bathroom wall a little, to allow for the positioning of a freestanding bath where the basin was currently placed. Then the builders would finish concreting the floor downstairs, and then they would go home and wait for everything to dry.
How wrong I was.
This is what happens when Men On A Mission set to work.
Downstairs, there was some more breaking up to be done.
And an ancient pipe to be removed.
There was some breaking up to be done.
And a new, single, pipe to be installed.
Also - to my surprise - an entire bathroom to be removed. By this time I had escaped, to look at curtain fabrics, visit the loo in the garden centre, buy groceries, and give the sociable, workmen-loving dogs a break from all the dust and excitement.
I came home to find the dismantled bathroom suite left in the rainy garden. I made haste to cover it up with a tarpaulin; tomorrow it has a new home to go to.
The speed of progress wasn't the only surprise.
There was some pink and fishy wallpaper behind the bath.
The bathroom wall, once uncovered, was seen to have been rough-cast, and had clearly been on the exterior of the house once upon a time, which makes the dining room and kitchen younger than the sitting room. Another element of discovery to add to the mystery that is my old cottage.
The hallway is full of boxes of tiles, and the shower tray. The bath failed to arrive today, but we live in hope.
Tonight, I have the bare essentials. Sorry, essential. And a sheet of plywood to stop monsters from climbing up into the bathroom in the night, through the gaping hole in the wall.
Tomorrow, the builders, plumber, joiner and apprentice all come back to continue the mission. The mantra is on a loop in my head: it will all be worth it when it's finished.