For over a year we put off building renovations until we realized at the end of November that we no longer had any other option but to do the renovations before the holiday makers descended upon us. Sometime somewhere in my distant past I read that the three most stressful things we bring upon ourselves are: number one moving house, number two building a new house, and number three building renovations. Who ever thought to put building renovations as number three clearly had no idea what he or she was talking about. Top of my list as the most stressful is building renovations while actually living in your humble dwelling amidst dust, constant banging and a stranger invading your space without any consideration what so ever.
What this person don’t realize is that you are trying your best to be as accommodating to his needs as possible, as it is YOU after all that had the intense desire to better and beautify your abode. But no, when finding said person standing on your bed on your down duvet with muddy boots, one dare politely mention this small oversight as one still has the intense desire to lay your tired body to rest once the sun sets. His renovator highness getting his knickers in sixty seven twists, lets one search the soul as to why we could not have seen beauty in the slow decay of the dwelling we call home.
That the world is made up of good intentions is the one piece of advice that you wish you adhered to when you paid the agreed deposit required to the highly recommended person, before any hammer will fall. Day one brought an onslaught of sounds that pierced into the deepest corners of your soul and you consoled yourself with the knowledge that the promised ONE week of upheaval, dust and debris will be worth every cent. Day four brought you to your knees as the verbal abuse spewed forth when one dared challenge the quality of workmanship, made you thank the Creator that this too shall pass as the deposit paid did not justify the amount of work done and you had no choice but concede to the will of another.
Day eight and the beginning of week two, you realized that the grinding of teeth slowly became a habit and you cringed at the thought of the price of dentures. Day fifteen brought with it week three and your patience a virtue hanging by a non-existing thread. The torn shreds left of a tongue constantly bitten to prevent oneself from spewing forth verbal abuse where one could get lost in words that no dictionary dare publish, had become your friend. Day twenty two arrived alongside week four and one woke with the thought, whoever had said absolutely nothing bad can last forever, had clearly no conception of how long a renovator can stretch one single week.
As you look around you, you are once again able to grasp the concept that beauty can be found in the most controversial of things. Your creative mind conjures up images of flowering creepers hiding the sadness of a skew gutter. An unwanted white door begs your forgiveness whispering the suggestion of a layer of brown paint to hide its shame, and the plank of wood hiding ceiling boards cut too short laughs triumphantly in your face every time you dare allow your eyes to play upon its utter vulgarity.
To mention the name of the renovator has become taboo between the Englishman and me, our attempts to hide shoddy workmanship with layers of paint and creative ideas the topic of our conversations and the assurance we give each other is today, hopefully today will be the end of our ordeal.
One then allows oneself to revel in the thought that YOU hold the winning card, as only you have access to the promised remuneration, the fingers that have to push one small button to transfer the full and final payment might just be as reluctant as the hand that held the hammer, and one can almost taste the sweetness of your bitter revenge.
Should you see me running down the street clothes torn to shreds with ash adorning my wild hair do not stop, do not offer your condolences, do not beg an explanation, do not try to catch me, do not seek me out, do not touch me, do not write about me, do not mention my name … as week five slowly approaches, the end is not yet nigh …
