I feel as though I am living in a carpentry workshop today, because the roofers are sawing and drilling and hammering the lumber they are using on the scaffolding just outside of my window. I went down across the street to get a look at what they were doing, and I was quite pleased with the way they are putting the new roof on the building.
mr. r. is also working from home today (for the first time), so i hear his keyboard as well as mine ... also, hearing all the sounds from my computer through head phones, so i won't bother him (he is using head phones too).
The full lawn maintenance crew with mowers and blowers drowned out by my magnificent Fritz Wunderlich and Christa Ludwig recording of Bach's Christmas Oratorio. No one yet, has asked me to turn down the volume.
ah, i was listening to the christmas oratorio too, until a moment ago. interrupted it to listen to a song someone posted on a thread, and then will go to bed, so tomorrow i'll continue listening ... (just listening to random recordings on youtube, so no idea which one) ...
I am hoping that my jackass neighbor refrains from blasting god awful bad noise music from his man cave that he constructed within the past year.
The music shoots directly into my second story bedroom and when it's mild outside I like to have my French balcony doors open.
I texted him last p.m. and politely asked him to please turn it down. His response was a rant that was almost laughable. He said that it was the anniversary of his father's death, AND, he had to have his dog put down AND filed for full custody of his son, AND got laid off from his job.
This may be the last open window day for a time. From the courtyard, laughter and conversation, a pianist with a little Schumann, the soundtrack of O Brother Where Art Thou and my Berlioz song cycle. Nothing very loud. It all works.
Lots of slow-drag oompah music and very loud fireworks, then a pause for some a capella religious singing in front of my house. The band started up again, the procession moved on, and now there is complete silence.
While I was peeing before the movie this morning, I heard one of those intestinal explosions, release of gas and faecal matter, then a pause and another flood of activity. The sort of thing that would mortify any of us in a public place. Thank god that nobody can see you in such a case. But at the same time, I thought about how good that feels when you are in distress and it all has to come out.
We are having a rather ugly fireplace (typical 1980s provincial France)removed and a woodstove installed today. Right now, I can hear the workers knocking down and taking apart the fireplace. Since the house is rather shoddy quality, I have visions of cracks in the walls in the room behind.
As further background noise, there is the sound of rain bucketing down.
Originally they were supposed to come yesterday -- the only day since the beginning of the month that it didn't rain. The door has to be open so they can put the broken stuff into their trailer and it's 8°.
At least it isn't -8. I still remember not having a real half of my side kitchen wall due to extensive structural work on our buildings - the ground floor people simply had to move out. I was sort of camping; sleeping in a sleeping bag as well as bedding, with Renzo sharing the sleeping bag.
Yes, reading K2's scatological post while it is still fairly early in the morning is a bit unsettling. I need some coffee.