It's always a bloody nightmare, 24 hours a day for the whole time it is up, and they say that this lot is going to stay up for weeks whilst they carry out basic maintenance to the 5 buildings that are owned by the same company in our street.
Scaffolders and builders don't seem to realise that gentlemen like myself do not start their day about 2 minutes after dawn has broken, and it is very difficult to write unselfconsciously with a bloke in a yellow hard-hat staring at you through the window 25 feet off the ground and making loud hints about how a cup of tea wouldn't go amiss.
It's no better at night, because one has both drunkards and burglars to contend with after dark. The drunkards are usually too drunk to realise that the scaffold has been alarmed, and the burglars don't care. Nobody takes any notice of alarms going off in the middle of town, or anywhere else for that matter.
I have my fabulous collection of antique glass and rusty candlesticks to protect. Her Indoors has her vast collection of designer clothing - she has a hard enough job protecting it against moths, but I suppose at least it is insured against theft. Anyway, I can't see any of the builders being able to get into a size 10, so she need not worry too much.
Then there is the added discomfort of trying to have a shower with a hairy builder watching you from 2 feet away at 8.00 in the morning. I know this would be an attractive proposition for some of you, but not me. Honest.
And the reduction in light - once the scaffold is up, we will have about 50% less of it front and back for weeks.
Oh shit, I'm not looking forward to this. You may find my posts unusually stilted in the coming days.