Smiley

The upstairs landing has no carpets, and all the bedroom furniture has had to be stored in the garage.  All the upstairs floorboards are in disarray, and we have no hot water.  The kettle’s died, so the workmen can’t have any tea unless I make a 12 mile trip to the shops and buy another one or spend my time boiling up saucepans of water.  The upstairs toilet and the downstairs shower are out of order until the water pipes are connected back up. Everywhere is covered in a fine layer of dust, and all this is taking place during the hottest week so far this year.  Today we had three men tramping all over the house.  One of them is totally unable to function without carrying an iPad about with him, out of which emanates what sounds like Minnie Mouse on helium.  After four hours of it one hopes that a hairy rock singer might make an appearance, but no, every song sounds the same and features Minnie Mouse and her similarly affected friends.

I cannot write a word during the day.  The front door is left open to the elements, next door’s cat, and this year’s crop of thunderflies.  Every now and then the boss-man struts in without knocking like he owns the place and hey ho, there are then 4 men clodhopping about.  The noise is incessant, Sam has found customers to visit, and I have started taking long walks and leaving them to it.

I’m not sure if it’s Minnie Mouse which is worse, or the drilling and banging.  The owner of the iPad obviously knows the ‘songs’ (I use that term loosely), as he tends to join in at every possible opportunity in a kind of high pitched whine.  Sometimes the whining and the banging seem to be in perfect (dis) harmony too.

Tonight we had what I  can only describe as a monsoon.  The garage flooded for the first time ever, and now all our furniture has had to be brought back in and piled around me in the living room.  Sam is sweating buckets, there is no room to move, and we’ve got another week of this.

Deepest joyload.

 

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