Rumble, rumble, toil and trouble

The neighborhood I live was "settled" in the early 1970's. I think it's going to be really nice if we ever get it finished. Once again I'm feeling the much-too-familiar rumble and vibration of heavy equipment. There is the sound of big stuff happening. I have no idea what is left to re-do, except my house of course and a few others that are too far away to be a disturbance. I am an update hold-out, as are only a few other people farther down the street who have also lived in the neighborhood for a long time. Yesterday, I spoke briefly with one, and I saw my future. She was in her robe at 2:00 p.m., and getting her mail with difficulty and a cane. When I asked her how she was, she said, "I'm ninety, you know."

For over four years, during boom times, my front view was of pickup trucks and dumpsters and, naturally, port-a-pottys. The lot across the street from me, which had always been a buffer in that it was intended to screen a large house on an adjoining lot, now has been developed. Oh, well. Divorce happens. Property is sold. Mcmansions are built (and abandoned as the bubble starts losing air). No one did anything that isn't within their rights. I'm clear on that. But updated codes being what they are, this large and elevated new house and its construction constituted a daily infringement on my right to privacy and peaceable enjoyment. Of course, one house didn't take four-years-plus to build. There was also the renovation, once, of the house next door to me, and before that there was the renovation, twice, of the house next door to that. There were others. And at least two swimming pools were dug. So we had dirt and dust and crashing and vibration. And, oh yes, the sound of AM talk radio against the rhythms of Latino dance music.

During much of this time I have been plotting my own revenge renovation. It started with a much-needed redesign of my "master suite." That design has taken a while, and as I contemplate the possibilities, the scope has grown. My house is one of those older, low-to-the-ground slab sprawlers. Why not go up, I say? Don't I need more storage? Why not a loft in the living room, just for books? In fact, why not use that loft as access to an expanded attic over the bedrooms. So now I'm drawing a new facade, which then takes me to the design of a breezeway to my new two-car-plus garage. The old enclosed carport would make a great poolhouse with a workout room and bath. Who will disagree? Did I mention the outdoor kitchen, where I probably won't cook any more than I do in the indoor one, but while we're making noise and raising dust, let's go for it.

Considering the pace at which I accomplish anything to do with home improvement, unless I can do it myself with simple tools, this is a pretty ambitious revenge plan, but it makes me feel good for a while. So humor me. And I might get it done. I'm quite a ways from ninety.