Next door

My 'new' neighbours are back from three weeks away. It was so lovely and peaceful I worried one of them had died.

Last week I found out they were back because they only turned up to bring guys to give them a new garage door. Its right outside my kitchen window and involved a day and a half of banging and drilling.
This morning I heard traffic in his drive at half past eight. at 8.45am the DRILLING started.

Cavity wall insulation.

What joy.

The nice lad left to do the work says they will be finished by 11. Wow, I might get a bath in, (my bathroom is that side of the bungalow) before I rush off to work at 11.30. Lucky me.

So glad we don't own this place. Although these are detached properties it feels as though we share foundations, and so I sit here, windows shut against the clouds of brick dust, if not the noise, the buzz of the drill coming up through the floor. Twenty minutes constant drilling, so far.

I just wish he'd warn me. Even if he'd just come to the door and say 'Oh, you know that three hour window when the kids have left for school, the time you get to do all the housework, reply to mail, research the radio funding, do the parish mag, phone the hospital to see how your mother is, take a quiet bath, pray, look after no.1, or just THINK....? Well tough".

That's all.

I mean, after thirteen months of this, all I really hope for is the dignity to reschedule my own life and not spend so much time playing catch-up. I refuse to follow the last two cats I owned and end up losing hair and needing vitamin injections....