They start pulling up at 7:00 AM, one truck after another. There must be some vehicular code of honor amongst contractors, regardless of specialty: framing, electrical, plumbing, insulation, HVAC, drywall, or stucco — they all seem to drive the same big truck.
This week it seemed like every contractor was intruding in our personal space. On Monday morning John and I were trying to sneak in and out of our only bathroom, slipping around the drop down attic stair that unfolds into the hallway.
We tried to ignore the boots on the top step. Neil and Alex were standing in the attic above us getting the new forced air heating system working.
Later in the day, it was Rudy at the top of the attic stair working on the wiring. With many contractors dotted around the house, we never know where we might encounter one.
On my way down the stairs to the living room, I spotted Denly on scaffolding outside the second floor window.
At the bottom of the stairs Tom and Pete were in the living room…
a few minutes later, Kritzian was in the kitchenette.
When I passed the tile guys, John and Paul, as they carried buckets of grout up the stairs, I jokingly asked “are you done yet?” I knew they only just started to install the stone on the new bathroom floor — but John and I are anxious to have our privacy back.
Meanwhile, Jack watches all the comings and goings from the sanctuary of the sunroom.
Ironically, he would like nothing better than to trade his privacy for a chance to paw around in wet grout and tug on pant legs that want to go up a ladder.
live. enjoy. repeat.