and about 8am the power tools start up or there will be a chorus of 'stand clear, lorry reversing; stand clear, lorry reversing' or that weird asthmatic noise that some of them make.
I can cope with that. It's when the power tools are kicking up allergens first thing in the morning that's the bigger problem. Antisocial strimmer bastards. Can't they do it at night when it won't bother anyone?
It's just the general never-ending racket. Having lived in other countries, the constant need to hit houses and drill holes in them seems to be a majorly British pastime. Just standing outside, there's a constant echo from hundreds of these projects, people hammering away on projects that will, in ten years' time, hold the same level of affection as pebbledashing.
OK, I confess we had The Asbestos Palace refurbished, mostly because it was a late 60s time capsule. And I have some sympathy because it was a six-week project that took 6 months (because they drank tea till 11am, then had to go collect something and oh look, it's 3pm time to knock off). But my sympathy evaporates in the heat, because (a) I don't like to wake up before 9am (early mornings are the sign of barbarianism) and (b) it would be nice to use my garden and lovely balcony without an accompanying chorus of power tools.
The hobbyists are the worst or the worst, some friends of ours have a lovely house but the bloke (and it's always a man) next door is engaged in a never-ending series of home improvements, so every weekend that's what they wake up to. They're mostly resigned to it now, there's evidently no endpoint to his endeavours.
We are supposed to be getting a downstairs bathroom built and the driveway redone. I've developed a purposeful amnesia regarding this project.
