The hallway has been decorated, the cellar floor tiles lifted and stored on the patio and the plants – on one side of the front garden – replanted elsewhere. Sections of garden wall have been lowered and bricks stacked, hen coops re-located and my potting shed crammed to the gills with the “might come in useful one day” detritus and paraphernalia that has loitered in various nooks and crannies for a year (to the day). Stoves waiting in the drawing room and a door somewhere else all mean just one thing.
The builders – complete with mini-digger, scaffolding poles and attendant chaos – are coming tomorrow.