There are big burly men in our backyard yelling at each other.
“Up one,” shouts the first.
“What?” in response.
“Up one!” in a much louder voice.
This exchange has something to do with aligning the frame before the concrete guys show up to pour later this morning.
And it’s 7 a.m. on a beautiful fall morning, which means the sounds carry swiftly through the crisp air.
This neighborhood that is our home has developed some immunity to morning noises as it lies in a flight path for the busy MSP airport. But I wonder whether this assault on morning grogginess might just put my neighbors over the top.
When we arrived home this spring, we saw our 111-year-old house with newly critical eyes for some of its needed updates. The mid-century siding – yes, actual tin siding – was definitely due for an update.
Then there was the upstairs bathroom that suffered the comparison with some of the wonderful showers we had experienced in California. So that was on the project list.
And finally, our neighbor with the charming cottages was seeking off-street parking for his bride-to-be, and negotiated a perpetual easement onto our property in exchange for building us a new garage, with a stall for his car.
We really worked to have all of these bids and contracts sequenced one after the other in a well-planned order.
Best laid plans and all – all three projects are taking place within the same block of time. So the siding guys, the garage guys, and the bathroom guys are competing for space in the dumpster and on the decibel scale.
We take some small comfort in knowing that this too shall pass and by November, it will be quiet and tidy on Sheridan Avenue – in time for a lovely blanket of snow.
And for the neighbors, I should schedule a soup party open house to offer some pay back for their rude awakenings this month. Hope they forgive us.