Chainsaws at dawn

Well, O.K., not exactly at dawn, since dawn breaks early in July. But with builders renovating the house next door we're having a noisy summer here. The cement mixer churns and there's a brickie effing and blinding his way through building a wall at the front. At the back someone insistently taps paving slabs with a hammer to get the new patio laid flat. Through an open upstairs window comes the sound of the plasterer singing along to Adele songs. Sand arrives and skips are collected. Half the county's building trade seems involved in the house next door.

It's put a temporary blot on pottering about in my dressing gown, watering my plants and enjoying my first coffee of the day. In fact, after six weeks it's all getting wearysome, especially as escaping anywhere in the car involves navigating through the white vans parked beside our kerb.

Then again, every cloud of brick dust has a silver lining. I've submitted four stories during July. It's unusual for me to submit much in the summer as I'm normally in the garden more. I have no excuse not to complete my tax form too, while I am stuck indoors anyway. Gosh I hate having to do a tax form for my small writing income. I'm a bit rubbish with numbers. It always takes at least three phone calls to the tax office to check which figure goes where. But then I know I am lucky to have any writing income, with paying markets seeming to grow ever more competitive.

Well, that's my little moan over. Next weekend I have a guest blogging here at Zigzag Road. Watch this space, and I hope you all have a peaceful week.