The long stretch

The things that you can find out from the internet are astounding.

A question searched for can yield forth a multitude of answers when in the past the wise words of a family elder or just plain old common sense would have to do.

Not just mundane things about removing red wine stains from pale carpets, easing a gusset around a seized pipe, retrieving car keys from a public drain or how to get rid of ant infestation but up to and including matters of life and death.

There is a guide on how to assist in the birth of a child, give CPR and to escape from a multitude of hazardous situations.

I often think back to my childhood when good hard guidance on such things was veiled in secrecy and were even taboo.

A husband was not encouraged to be present at the emergence of his offspring, let alone help out in the post natal period.

Resuscitation was for the likes of geeky, spotty faced and ginger haired youths from St John's Ambulance or if by chance there happened to be someone to answer the cry of "is there a Doctor in the house?".

I often recall the solution proposed by one of my peer group, when I was a Scout, for a nose bleed. The lad willingly put forward the idea of applying a tourniquet to the neck. Perhaps a piece of advice handed down through the generations of his family.

There are of course pitfalls in taking the internet suggestions as being the honest truth.

Urban myths, hearsay and even malicious ideas have seeped into the on line forums which present themselves upon the typing in of the specific keywords. For each seemingly plausible answer given there is some self professed expert who advocates the complete opposite and so on and so forth.

This introduces an element of chance into any advice taken and followed.

I found myself seeking the wise counsel of the world wide community on the subject of how to move a three seater settee from a ground floor garage up to the first floor living room.

I was under the impression that furniture designers were savvy enough to produce an item that would be comfortable, stylish, practical, durable and wipe clean. These basic criteria would I suppose be drummed in at the college or apprenticeship stage of their careers or livelihoods in the interior decor sector. In the case of the settee just purchased from a well known dynamic duo of out of town retailers was it too much to ask that the item be of a size to fit into any house of any age or dimension.

The store deliverymen had unceremoniously dumped the settee in the garage after their initially enthusiastic attempts at an ascent of the staircase had failed. They had by all accounts tried pretty hard. On the first assault off had come the protective wrappings, second go the cushions removed and on the third the hardwood legs were screwed out and off in that order. It had been a bit like a striptease.

The pinch point was the turn at the top of the flight of stairs. No way was the furniture going to be coerced around that angle.

The whole family was disappointed at finding the disassembled seating in the bay of the garage.

We had been living on one good chair and two folding camp chairs for five weeks.

The arrival of the settee had been greatly anticipated as a step towards a more normal way of living.

My son had been present for the duration of the aborted attempt. It was his uncompromised opinion that with a little more logic the settee would reach its destination.

I was again in things domestic, the doubting Thomas and insecurity in my own mind led me to ask the www about how to negotiate a piece of furniture through a house. The line drawing on a forum page, sad as it is to find such a forum, recommended the taking of accurate measurements of the length, depth and height of the item and then comparing them against the space available for the act of manoevring.

I found that the depth and height were ok at 0.9 metres. The length however was a wacking 2.4 metres. At the top of the stairs, notwithstanding the angle of the wall, the floor to ceiling distance was only 2.3 metres.

I could sympathise with the deliverymen.

However, my son remained adamant that it would "go" and I gave him the benefit of my ample doubt.

The actual settee, devoid of soft furnishings and legs, was light which helped in the movement of its bulky form.

Me and my son soon matched the endeavours of the professionals in that we had wedged it firmly into the tight space at the top step of the stairs and on the difficult corner. I noticed a faint scorching smell and with horror noticed that the settee end was touching the hot halogen bulb light fitting above.

A panic on my part, only, saw a strategic retreat to one stair down in order to rest.

Supporting the lower end half way up the stairs my son had been giving a running commentary on issues of angle and clearance. His proposal to start again but with the handrail removed from the left hand side of the ascent was scoffed by me at as extra work but putting my pride aside it was duly done.

In spatial terms this act had opened up a new dimension completely and within a couple of minutes we had surpassed the best efforts of those men.

The vertical impasse could now be wiggled a bit and at an acute angle part of the settee end entered the kitchen door opening. We had lifted off the heavy fire doors earlier on in the day thinking it would have assisted the process. It had not then but with the extra few centimetres gained by unscrewing the handrail we were definitely making headway.

Taking care not to damage the fabric we edged and cajoled the furniture until it was again vertical but clear of the hot light and a downstand beam supporting the second floor structure.

Easier than expected the tight corner was cleared but we were now firmly wedged on the landing and at an impossible angle from the living room opening.

It was time for me to have doubts again.

In a short break I sent an e mail enquiry to a local Crane Hire company on the avialability and costs of a scissor lift. Plan B was to use such lifting equipment in conjuction with taking out a first floor window casement to get the settee in from the back of the house.

My son was keen to resume the puzzle-like challenge.

I could not see how it would be at all possible to be successful but then again common to my age group I could only appreciate and see situations in one or at best one and a half dimensions. My son and his peers are well versed in 3D appreciation having been brought up on video games. This skill came into play.

Bottom panel towards, top panel away, slight twist, flip and slide.

Amazingly the whole thing became pliable and manageable but critically now perfectly aligned with the kitchen doorway. I could not work out how that combination of moves had resolved an apparently impossible problem. Rubik-esque it was.

It was easy from thereon in. Through the kitchen, right turn through the dining room door and then a triumphal entrance into the living room through the wide flat archway. It was as though Caesar had returned to Rome.

All present almost wept with joy and relief. Despair had turned into utter happiness.

That was apart from my son who rightfully claimed the first full length sprawl on the soft and soothing upholstery.

I had a bad dream during the following night about being chased by a sofa with cloven hoof.

The lack of sleep affected the rest of the following day and I was caught off my guard when the Crane Hire Company rang to confirm my order for a heavy duty piece of lifting gear.