Construction Stuff...

Here's a brief tour around Il Poggiolo to see just where Our Builder hid his Stuff before Our Big Party on the 23rd of July...

1. Once-upon-a-time, bunny-rabbits and a pig resided here. They are long gone. Now, it is home to scaffolding...

2. This was the donkey's domicile. Donkeys were THE means of transportation in these parts until the 50s!!! As you can see, no room for Mr. 4x4 Donkey. Only cement & tiles today... 

3. The unfinished Stanza dei Tini and the far-off Laundry Room, encumbered with wood, wheelbarrows & the traces of works not to be completed until September...

4. And, behind the wall, more Tools of the Trade. Gads.

The Fish Swimming Pool...

... in the afternoon. 

I am very pleased with my new plant purchases from yesterday's jaunt to Massa... though Codiponte is within the Province of Massa, it takes nearly an hour to get there, and by the autostrada!!!... and the mega-grande nursery... Giovanelli... there. I spent a good twenty minutes hunting for an Informed-person to help me find the aquatic plant life for purchase in the ENORMOUS establishment. I was sent to a woman in the Aquarium Department... another long trip... by a handsome & sun-tanned twink. He was pretty to look at but, his employer ought to invest in proper training of their Staff. This 20-something only knew about shade plants. Good Grief. That's about 0.3% of the stock of the nursery!!! He went back to pruning the dead leaves off a camellia. I padded-off to find the woman. She was dressed in an orange polo... like those worn on the budget airlines in the US... but, she answered all My Questions/Directions/Other. A Euro 100 later, I went home happy with a box of new aquatic plants, fertilizers & potting soil. Yet, I think once a quarter is well enough for visits to the Giovanelli in Massa. Too darn far away!!! Gads.

Other Stuff In Bloom...

This plant is a hydrangea. Different type from the snow-cone variety you normally see around. 

The poor thing was rendered nearly extinct, thanks to the lack of Respect given it by the Work-guys. I had mistakenly planted the unusual flowering plant in front of the Upstairs Apartment at the very moment that that spot became a resting place for the W-guy's equipment & tools... and their Marlboro cigarette packages. By the way, cigarettes are really expensive here. 20 cigs from Marlboro is practically a down-payment on studio apartment!!! 

So, I moved it to along the Eastern facade of La Casa Grande & above the Fish Swimming Pool. I thought it would be annihilated by all the rain & chill of last Winter. However, though it was a struggle all the way until late-July, it seems Healthy & Happy... as per the many blooms. Whew!!! Gads.

A Commandment Fulfilled...

Does it mean I have only nine more to go? I wonder how Mr. You will take having a cap put on his authorizations? 

Anyway, we are in bloom in the Fish Swimming Pool. Gads.

Commandments of Mr. You...

Mr. You speaks & I am commanded...

he told me tonight... on the telephone between my bouts of acute hip pain... that he would like to see a photo of the lilly in bloom in the Fish Swimming Pool. Well, the only way we can do it is if I post the darn picture on this blog. All other methods are i-m-p-o-s-s-i-b-l-e, with much thanks to the adaptability of Mr. You to Modern Communication Technology. I suppose I ought to be thankful to his coterie of nurses that he can manage to view things on my blog. 

Anyway, guess what I get to do first thing in the morning? Can I at least feed the Dear Fish first? Gads.

Scabs...

An odd spot for a blister. Ain't a blister though...

that scab stuck between the two fingers of my driving-hand is the nearly two-week result of either a sting-ant bite or from a spider. Damn Mother Nature & Her Poisonous Varmits. Try putting anti-septic cream and a Band-aid in such a spot. I had innocently placed an un-gloved hand on a grassy bank to brace myself while I yanked-up a skyscraper tall multi-leafed-weed-with-flower. I had wanted the Garden to be ship-shape for our party last Friday night. No-one saw the Garden. They staid on the Cortile eating & drinking & talking & laughing. And, rightly so. There was tons of stuff to eat & get happy on. Anyway... the bite hurt like shit!!! The hills around Codiponte are still echoing with my medley of swear-words. I took Our Lord's Name in vain... Good Grief... and went on from there. It was very colorful language, to say the least. I could do NOTHING but hold my driving-hand & invent new swear-words for an hour afterwards. Then, like an insidious strain of magic, the pain disappeared. That night, however, I wanted to tear off my fingers to get at the itch, the bite itched so badly. Naturally, this happened during my REM sleep. I was oblivious to the consequences of the itching attack. Only, I awoke to an encrusted-with-blood driving-hand & stained sheets. All I can say is... I hope whatever multi-legged-micro-creature it was that bit me, it DIED A Terrible & Lonely DEATH!!!

This encounter with the Local Bug Life is just one example of what I have suffered the last two Summers gardening on the multi-terraced grounds of Il Poggiolo. Look at my leg!!! I even have scabs on my Scottish fanny from God-knows-what kind of blood-sucking-insect. My white-wine & pasta made with fresh tomatoes, garlic & basil nourished body rivals Kabul. Gads.

Unwanted Hiatus...

A shady shot. At least, this scene is devoid of Our Builder's Construction Crap. It will be so until the end of August. Our unwanted August hiatus. Yet, A Healthy Financial Blow for Our Builder...

he is obligated by Our 3rd Contract to pay Euro 75 for every day late after the June 30th Deadline. So far, he is 26 days late. He told me the other day that Phase III... Upstairs Apartment, Laundry Room & Plumbing System... won't be completed until September 15th. The Math will then say... Euro 75 x 77 days late = a bunch of Euros!!! It'll be a whole shit-load of $$$s!!! Sorry to be so vulgar, but really. Had Our Builder thrown his entire six-man squad at the three tasks of Phase III... a simultaneous assault both above & below... he could have knocked off with... I'm done Dad!!!... two weeks before the Deadline. Didn't happen that way. Now, he pays. And, I cannot figure it.

The month long Peace & Quiet may, actually, be a boon to My Tired & Stressed Spirit/Anima/Well-being/etc. I can now cat-nap/read/putter/gaze-up-into-a-cloudless-sky!!! on the terrace in front of the Upstairs Apartment without being bothered.... da nessuno. The only disturbance might be an occasional persimmon dropping from its tree bonking The Dog forcing him to move over by the pomegranate bush. No problem for me. I wear a hat. What an exciting month we are in store for!!! Gads.

Down...

The oak flooring is down but, it's not finished yet. 

Before we can holler... It's done, Dad!!!... a few additional steps must happen...

the natural protection of oil... oddly, with a hint of oranges in its perfume... has to be brushed on...

...yet, before that grease, the 60 square meters of oak flooring will have to submit to being abused by kind of sanding machine with a special disk to bring-out the veining of the Romanian oak. Yep. Romanian oak. That Eastern country is the World's second largest producer of oak flooring, aged like it should be. Bet you didn't know that!!!

...however, even before all that, we must wait a week... or, two... for the boards to realize they are in a permanently horizontal position. A necessary aspect of their Destiny. 

Now, I can understand why folk put go on & put down cotto tiles. Once down, that's it. Gads.

Done...

Well, the hand-rail was installed this afternoon. Seems the new-yet-old railing looks like it has always been a part of il Poggiolo. How did that happen? 

My only other Comment before signing-off is the railing leaves a lovely set of shadows on the terra-cotta pavement in the late afternoon sun. Gads.

Getting Laid...

The next time you see these views, the oak flooring will have been laid. Gads.

The Cortile Restored...

...and cleaned by the torrential rains of last night. Gads.

A Rainbow...

Feeling near to the Breaking Point... thanks to the two month delay to finishing the Upstairs Apartment/Laundry Room/Plumbing Plan/Etc. & this Pre-wedding Dinner I insisted upon this coming Friday. I called Mr. You 100 times about whether I should buy the super-cheap-made-in-Chine dark green plastic garden chairs OR, fork over more Euros for a model which, costs twice as much, but might last beyond this August. By the way, I am appalled at how Italians behave in mass-market stores with their children. Like, escalators are NOT an amusement ride but, a means of conveyance to another floor. Viewing the whoops & hollers & stunts of the masses with their bambini, escalators should be chutes to an alternative Time/Space Continuum, far, far, far away from me!!!... I dove into a bag of San Carlo potato chips. They weren't salty enough.... darn it. Come to think of it, the chips weren't even very potato-y. Must Search & Find that Italian brand of potato chips in the clear plastic bag. They are a masterpiece of salt, fat AND potato.... not forgetting the benefits to one's Spirit/Anima/Perspective.  Sadly, M & Ms are NOT AVAILABLE in Italy!!!

Then, The Dog, detecting the end to the sorrily weak afternoon rains, made noises that he really, really, really needed to go o-u-t. And, lo' & behold, hanging over Il Poggiolo was a thread of a rainbow. Is this a sign? A positive sign that All will be A-OK? Gads.

The Florida Door...

Here is an early morning shot of our Florida Door to the Terrace. Lovely, isn't it? 

I doubt the door would appear better at any other time of the day. Ugly is ugly, you know. 

Cannot figure out why Our Wonderful Wood-worker feels horizonatal window panes... in threes... are the thing to do. He pulled the same trick on the window to Mr. You's Bathroom window in The Casetta. Naturally, the Florida Door WILL BE CHANGED!!! I wanted glass down to the floor in two vertical columns. Is that so hard? And, who cares that the panes might be too narrow/small/other? I am awaiting Comment & Feedback from Mr. You on this topic. So far, he has mentioned water infiltration. I don't think so. Ugly is ugly. STOP.

In the meantime... here are also two additional early morning shots of the Terrace and its railing... senza corrimano... or, handrail. I am very pleased with the result. I WAS guilty of a couple of dramatic hissy fits with Mr. You about its purchase & subsequent restoration. However, since I AM THE PAYMASTER, I believe I am entitled to them. Renovation is so stressful... and dramatic!!! Gads.

It's Attached...

The deal was... I need this railing up by the 22nd of July. The 20-something Welder-dude, who seems to have patterned his personal aesthetics on those ultra-tall creatures...???... men... ???... beings... ???... from the movie Avatar. Curious about the weird 3-D Mohawk he sports, furry on top, closely shaved on the sides, I hazarded the obvious question. And, you know what? I was right. The Welder-dude dug the movie and being 6 feet 6, with blues eyes, he was nearly there. All it took was an electric razor. Anyway, I periodically called the Welder-dude to remind him of the Impending Date. He always seemed surprised to hear from me. Nor did he seemed much bothered by Time. I took this to be a bad sign, adding to my general nervousness from so many sectors. I prayed.

Well, prayer worked!!! The Welder-dude called me last Friday, 2 minutes before backing his truck across the Medieval bridge and right up to my ramp leading up to il Poggiolo, to tell me he was going to instal the railing. I IMMEDIATELY called Mr. You with the news. I suddenly received a litany of Commands & Orders regarding its imminent installation. I needed paper & pen handy, however, I was standing in the bathroom stark-naked after a shower. I thought it was time to smell decent over the odor of heavily fertilized potting soil. I said Yes to everything and then, hung up. 

Dressed & perfumed, I arrived on the Terrace to see Welder-dude & assistant... who happens to be the Welder-dude's boss though considerably shorter of physical stature... measuring the railings height, done without the wooden stained hand-rail. The Welder-dude said he didn't like my idea of a small iron frame around the rail at the point it abuts the stuccoed pylon. Fine. I have to go tomorrow to see his idea. In light of the Time remaining, it is Highly Probable that I'll go with the -dude's idea. Gads.

A Couple Of Things...

I have just spent the past fifteen minutes out of my now already Much Reduced Life-time attempting to untangle the garden-hose in this photo. A quarter of an hour ago.... Good Grief!!!... it was one mad-mass of knots. Now, it is rather arabesque though it still refuses to coil nicely up into a well ordered ring by the faucet. 

I bought this particular type of garden-hose because, it had come Highly Recommended. Roberto, of the Gragnola hardware-store, said this new-fangled garden-hose would be less prone to sprouting those annoying & unexpected leaks, thanks to its super-strength nylon re-inforced tubing. Fine. I am the proud owner of three other long lengths of garden-hose with a stunning array of leaks. In the meantime, the darn 25 meter length of re-inforced nylon tubing knots up like crazy... BECAUSE... the darn thing won't automatically coil-up. It twists & turns & curls to its own secret notion of coiling. I do not deserve this. I am already socked-in by an hysterical builder, who is now 17 days late with Phase III. Must I suffer the same from what it supposed to be an inanimate object in service to Man? 

So, I think, if there really is A God... and I do so sorely hope on so many other urgent arguments... and, adding the annoying fact of our being smack dab in the middle of 2011, the time has come for the market to have an auto-coil, knot-less garden-hose!!! Am I asking too much here? Gads.

Windows And A Door...

Well, La Casa Grande is beginning to look like a real house now that the windows & a door were installed for the Upstairs Apartment. Our Wonderful Wood-worker, Giorgio, spent the day giving eyes & a mouth to the place. Naturally, while the thermometer hit 98F!!! Here are the hot-off-the-digital photo-documents...

La Casa Grande from the aia... or, Cortile...

the closed mouth of the Upstairs Apartment...

the Upstairs Apartment's Kitchen window captured in the glare of the late afternoon sun... that Construction Trash is due to disappear tomorrow...

a close-up of the same... as the Heat & Humidity brushes overhead...

and, in the cool of the blue inside... minus the scuri... or, interior shutters.

I'll see more of Giorgio tomorrow. He ain't finished yet. Oh, The Excitement!!! Gads.

Beeg Dayes Ahead...

Yes, blues skies are predicted to be over Codiponte!!! 

Tomorrow, Our Wonderful Wood-worker, Giorgio, comes to mount all the windows and the Front Door of the Upstairs Apartment. The two interior doors... one for the Bathroom and the other for the Bedroom... come aboard once the oak flooring is installed next week.

Then on Friday, Our Builder... yes, the same builder who resigned & then asked for his job back... is coming with his Gang of Work-guys to do the following...

1. Bury the ugly black plastic tube which runs across part of the Garden and also along nearly the entire facade of La Casa Grande heading to the La Casetta, so I can shower after a hot morning of gardening...

2. Cement the stone caps for the pilasters of the Terrace. Yes, the same ones which provoked Our Builder's Second Fit of Nerves & Stress precipitating his Resignation & subsequent Apology of last week...

3. Instal the Carrara marble shower platform in the Bathroom...

and...

4. Clear out all his Construction Junk, so Mr. You & I can host the dinner party for 40 out-of-town wedding guests on Friday, the 22nd of July. The junk comes back after the 23rd for Our Builder & Work-guys to continue with completing the plumbing system & Laundry Room. In the interim, there is No Great Joy than to be liberated of Our Builder's Construction Junk!!! Gads.

Reflecting While Stationary...

I am sitting at my Dining Room table listening to the watery spur of the sprinkler on the hydrangeas outside the window... 

The heat is terrific here. Yet, it isn't THAT hot. Not by the thermometer. It is by all other indications the RAI-TV weathermen rarely mention... the type of blazing desert heat shot from North Africa... a vengeance upon us Westerners, I suspect... the sea-bourne humidity accumulated by winds as they brush up past the Italian peninsula, never in direct contact with the cool air of the Apennines Mountains to produce a good afternoon shower... and both helped along by the Global Warming CO2 trails of the massive mid-day air-traffic over-head and from the fumes of the car-traffic of tourists invading the coastal roads towards the heart of Tuscany and the truck traffic bearing the fruits of our poisonous capitalism.

I am temporarily out of harm's way... reflecting on how a builder could dig himself into such a deep hole with what ought to have been a simple, easy & fast construction project to knock-off with some ample earnings for him to boot... the Upstairs Apartment & Laundry Room. But, he has. And, he has sorely wrecked my faith in his ability to render our il Poggiolo sound in its structures, habitable in its spaces & services and more lovely than in its long history. Yes, he has. Not a single item of the three page contract has been fulfilled to satisfactory completion AND in a timely manner. Every day that now passes, Our Builder is being docked Euro 75. He agreed to this at the signing, arrogantly dispensing its threat, falsely secure in having more time than needed to do the job. Well, it hasn't turned out that way. And, I am pretty darn angry AND fed up. In ten day's time, 40 wedding guests will show up on our door for a dinner the night before the actual wedding. I have had to cancel housing a few of them. Now, I am faced with giving a dinner in a building site.
The other failure of this adventure of Phase III is Our Geometra. It was AND still is his responsibility to insure the proper course of the re-construction work. Oh, he showed up a couple of times to take a look, hound us about the wood flooring... a totally cruel & pointless exercise in light of all the other items of the contract waiting to be tackled AND were not!!!... and smoothing the way with us while re-inforcing Our Builder's in-efficiency in tending to our job... like facilitating a drunk... dammit.
I am not having any fun AND I should be having fun. At least that since, I have forked over Euro 250,000 so far. That translates into weakened Dollars as $322,000!!! More than just gads.
    

One Ramp Done...

The Monday after the Saturday. More Toils & Labors. Ditto for the Heat & Humidity. However, no bulldozer. Here...

the stone steps... and what a bitch to find AND carry relatively acceptable rocks!!!

and here... the terrace raked 'till it could be raked no mo'... rolled, seeded, fertilized AND watered in the late afternoon sun. 

This Ramp is done. Went for the white wine to celebrate. Gads.

What You Can Do With Dirt & Debris...

A Saturday morning. Heat & Humidity Factor nearly at 100. One Work-guy... the Ruspa-Wizard, Marcello... and me. It's the Day to re-build the ramps. Gosh. What fun!!!

Dirt & Debris is moved from the Cortile to the Eastern Ramp with the mini-bulldozer. Well, first the Debris is spread over the chosen sight. In this case, it is the area next to the Spianata... or, Our Scenic Overlook of the Commie apartment building on the other side of the river. Then comes the Dirt on top. Rake, rake, rake, and rake and rake some more...

gives you this... another terrace ready for peat-moss, grass seeds, fertilizer AND lots of water!!!

Meanwhile, the Other Western Ramp got more Debris than Dirt. We ran out of Dirt. Fine. There will be bulldozer traffic still to come on this track down to the Cortile. The Debris will resist better. No sense breaking my back with all the rest of the re-building chores until the All-clear for the end of construction has been sounded. And, that ain't for a couple of years!!!

But look!!! No. Not the cat. The Cortile is devoid of the D & D. Cannot wait to sweep. Gads.

Blue A Second Time...

Well, the Blue is still Blue with the second coat. 

However, it's even Blue-er in Real Life. 

Isn't that always the case? Gads.

Blue!!!

As the Italians are want to say... un'anteprima... 

It's blue!!!

Tomorrow... the second coat. Gads.

A Short Note of Praise...

Enough of frigging idiots or ballistic builders. It is time to speak the praises of...

My Local Hardware Store... Riani of Gragnola (MS) Italy!!! 

And why must I? Well, I must because...

A) they have most everything... from 10 cm cvc tubes, nails & wrenches, to chemical weapons all the way to potato peelers which never seem to work, but then, they only cost 2 bucks. Big deal...

B) they open early and close not too late with niente pause nel mezzo della giornata... or, the proverbial siesta...

and...

C) they have the most service oriented Staff on the Face of Mother Earth!!!... from Gianfranco... the owner, since his Dad died two years ago... to the four green polo-shirted Hardware-guys... Matteo, Roberto, Paolo e Alessandro. They DO NOT KNOW the word No. And, they do not laugh, when I bring in my weed-wacker, because I cannot remember how to change from the disk to the twirling lines, etc.

You guys are great!!! Thank you. 

Now, back to heretofore mentioned afflictions. Gads.  

Trying Times...

No picture. It would look like a Wanted Poster. I've had three highly stressful days...

On Sunday, My Dog was viciously & repeatedly attacked by a hunting-dog let loose from its cage where, it happens, the dog shits, pees, eats, sleeps & barks 24/7. Oh! And the pen has a tin roof. You can just imagine the conditions inside. The dog's owner was weed-wacking to his heart content in his white-trash style garden when the aggressions occurred. He saw the whole thing. Did this person bother to come to our aid? Did he bother to catch his dog, who attempted several times to continue with his attacks, and put... him... back... in his disgusting pound? Did he care to find out the extent of My Dog's injuries. Or, even offer his apologies? No. He continued to weed-wack. 

The day before, this... this... this frigging idiot decided to burn the cut limbs from the trees in the makeshift parking lot at the base of the Medieval bridge. The ban on burning anywhere anything at anytime was in effect. Did this frigging idiot bother to abide by the Burning Ban? Did he choose to move the dried limbs from underneath the trees before striking a match? Did he even stand by while all went up in a violent plume of fire? No. He struck the match. Then, he went on with his weed-wacking his in-law's white-trash styled garden on the other side of the bridge and well out of view of the conflagration he had started. Now, we have half-burnt trees in the make-shift parking lot.

This frgging idiot is a passionate hunter. Perhaps, passionate is not the right word. Maniacal, more like. Our Builder... see below... who hunts with this frigging idiot told me he won't ever hunt with him. He said this frigging idiot is trigger happy. Once, thinking a swaying bush was a boar, he blasted the poor forest plant into another Time/Space Continuum. And, the pant's leg of a fellow hunter.  

Got the picture? Enough for the weekend.

On Monday, I waited all day for a non-appearing Work-guy with a motorized buggy to help me carry away all the Dirt & Debris collected from the excavations in the Cortile & Sottopassaggio. I called Our Builder, but, to no avail.

Yesterday, Our Builder showed up to see what all still needed to be done with the Upstairs Apartment. He went immediately to the Terrace. There, a sweat-smile Moroccan Work-guy was setting in place the caps to the four pylons of the Terrace. They looked terrible. Our Builder turned to me and with all the aggression contained in his 5'-4" Sardinian body, asked what to do. I quite calmly told him that the caps needed to be cut down. Why have pylons resembling four priest with those ridiculous wide brim hats a-la-Vaticano. Our Builder went ballistic. He said I was costing him Time AND Money. He said he did not care a whit about the work on my house. He said he would not continue so. He resigned. Yes. He resigned. Then, he walked off. I let him huff & puff back to his truck. I then called Our Geometra... on his vacation... to inform him of Our Builder's decision AND to explain My Position...

A) Our Builder is late AND we are not to blame. While we were dealing with the Search & Find of the wood flooring, Our Builder could have done a myriad of other tasks... plumbing, excavating the future Laundry Room, to name two. Did he? No.

B) We are ideal clients... we rarely change things and if we do, we normally do so immediately. If we are asked to make a decision, Mr. You & I confer and then give our prompt answer. When Our Builder asks for money, he gets his money. No such thing as 30 days pass due, etc. And, we do not complain when three weeks pass with n'er a Work-guy seen on our premises... and so on & so forth.

C) I know Our Builder is stressed from the continuing difficulty of rising prices of materials, changes to the rules which govern construction and other clients on his Task List, who are far, far from ideal. Difficult AND indecisive would be two words to describe them. 

and...

D) I cannot continue with My Items... painters to paint, flooring to be installed, bathroom & Kitchen out-fitted until Our Builder's few items are finished.

I suggest Our Geomtra make a call to Our Builder. He did.

An hour later, Our Builder called to apologize AND asked for forgiveness. I said that there was nothing to forgive. Let's get going to complete this Upstairs Apartment. He said yes. 

Exhausted, I took a nap. I slept heavily for an hour and a half. Gads.

Another Back-breaking Job in The Garden...

The Big Moment has finally come!!! One I have been awaiting for nearly a year. Two items have just been scratched-off The Builder's On-going List of Things-to-do... the bulldozer has dug-up two very-much-in-the-way tree-trunks and there is A Big Pile of Dirt & Debris from burying the septic tank & water pipes in the Cortile & Sottopassaggio and awaiting imminent distribution. Here is a shot of the Big Pile, covered in case of rain. Right. The clouds managed only to spit water...

Now, I can get started building grassy low-stairs on the two ramps. The one in this shot ambles down to the grassy Spianata... or, as Mr. You says, Our Scenic Over-look... mostly, of the Commie House, a seven-floor piece of local Communist public housing from the 80s... on the other side of the valley from Il Poggiolo... from the Upstairs Apartment. Here is the first of My Trials & Labors... 

The planks de-mark the location of the steps. I have raked rubble to them as the First Step. More Dirt & Debris needs to be trucked-up from that Big Pile down at the Cortile to continue to build them up. Then, I can put-down more Dirt, peat-moss on top, scatter grass-seed, roll the seeds down into the peat-moss, fertilize & water.
Ditto for the the Other Ramp, which leads down & around the drying shed to the Cortile.

I toiled away for five and a half hours today... in our current Heat & Humidity. I am now ingesting an exquisite pro-secco after swallowing anti-inflammation & pains pills. Earlier, I was so sore in the shower... it is amazing the muscles one uses to rake rocks... I crouched & assumed the fetal position to let the hot water pour over me. Cannot say that I am looking forward to tomorrow morning. How long will it take me to roll out of bed? Stay tuned. Gads.

Beauty Amongst The Beasts...

OK... around the Garden, a few flowers are in bloom. Some improve the impression of living on a building site. Here are a few documenting shots...

a couple of lillies...

hydrangeas sharing space with scaffolding & construction trash...

one lone wisteria bloom... only a month late. Better so than never, no?... which we hope will cover the sad looking horizontal prison bars of the eventual Laundry Room. What is not in the shot is how the vine is going gang-busters up & over to the north walls enclosing the Upstairs Apartment. At least that!!! Gads.