Low Place Like Home

13 Mar, 2026

An uncomfortable afternoon watching the workers work from the comfort of my chez lounge, as the remodelling of the garden continues. It’s absolutely hosing it down today, the rain streaming horizontally past the windows. Outside the workers work, inside the master rests.

We’re putting in decking, a new fence between us and the neighbours, as well as new tiles. In short, the whole garden is getting a complete makeover. This weekend the decking is supposed to go in, but before that happens, the remnants of the fence needs to be removed, as well as the cutting from the wisteria that’s been growing like wild. This morning a skip was delivered for the fence, as well as the existing tiles that have to be lifted and put in the skip.

So, a lot of work, in other words.

The builder dropped off this young lad, I’d say he’s about nineteen, to move the stuff from the garden to the skip, and to lift the tiles and move them to the skip also. It’s backbreaking work, having to lift each tile, collate them in batches of ten, putting them on a wee cart and rolling it to the skip outside. He’s been at this now for about three hours, but he’s almost done.

The whole thing is making me very uncomfortable, seeing someone doing that, in this weather, for this length of time, while I’m upstairs working on a computer, in a nice warm room with a nice cup of coffee. I’ve held off eating for as long as I can because I’m not sure what impression it would make if I’m there eating while someone else is schlepping my stones to a skip, in the rain. So, to show solidarity with the workers, I’ve skipped the salmon salad I was thinking of and instead go for peanut butter sandwiches. With sugar.

It’s a strange feeling, being uncomfortable in your own home. I'm afraid it’ll continue for a while as the rest of the work is done tomorrow and next weekend.

So, lots more uncomfortably hiding out of sight to come, but hopefully it’ll be worth it.