The sweet sound of jackhammers

That is what has been reverberating through my house the past 3 days. Am I being sarcastic to call it sweet? No. I have gotten to the point where I miss my neighbors so much, that I'm willing to put up with this. Kind of like a woman in her 9th month of pregnancy. The discomfort reaches a point where even labor and delivery are looked to as a welcome relief.

In the picture above, that adorable-looking vehicle has a jackhammer attachment in the front and has been tirelessly breaking up the concrete on my neighbor's property.

What will her house provide for me? A relief from the strange loneliness that hangs over this neighborhood. And, frankly, a wind-break. When the winds whip up from the east, we call them Santa Ana winds in our area, they bring with them ash and dirt from the burned hillsides. Before the fire my property felt the winds strongly, but since then it has been much worse. My house is now the wind break for the rest of the neighborhood. And my pool has a constant layer of silt in it which no amount of vacuuming seems to be able to abate.

And I am glad it is specifically my neighbor who is moving in. She has been a wonderful neighbor all these years. No more than 2 parties per year, with music and laughter extending into the night. That I can put up with. And she is a civic-minded citizen. Everybody in the area knows her because she allows her garage to be used as a voting place for each election. It has been so nice all these years to roll out of bed at 7am and scoot next door to vote.

I send my best wishes to all of my neighbors, particularly her and the 7 other neighbors who have yet to break ground on their rebuild.