Santa may have a hard time finding his way into my Writing Place this Christmas, thwarted by miles of scaffolding as they work to replace the roof. Navigating one's way through the maze is a daily challenge, being careful not to bump heads and elbows, and carrying groceries and drums, weaving between poles and clamps and pieces of wood.
It's quite a job as the house is on poles, and the roof is very high and steeply pitched. As my neighbour said this week, 'It'll be nice when it's finished.'
It is interesting getting to know the men working on the house. The scaffolders came first, and even on the hottest of days, one of them (with sunglasses, hair in a ponytail, a heavy brusque Scot's accent that made him hard to understand but I could always identify the words 'coffee in a big cup') liked to drink lots of hot coffee. The other was a very personable and pleasant man, very mild mannered and gentle in nature, quite the opposite of his colleague.
The roofers came in a flock, did a lot of work, and then vanished, as quickly as they had appeared, and will return in due course when the builders have finished replacing some of the board and batten that clads the house.
The builders have been on the steep roof in very trying conditions as it's been really hot over the last week or so. The lead builder is a young man with a young family and he expressed such delight when he told me his dad is coming from overseas for Christmas, to meet his grandchildren for the first time - three of them, one aged six and twins of four years - and to have a summer road trip around the North Island. There is a young apprentice here too, learning the trade, and another younger man who comes as needed, loud, talkative, radio blaring George FM, very fun and quite a character.
I have been working down here off and on, for short periods of time with all the banging and crashing up above - however it has been nice meeting these fellows who have been, without exception, easy to chat to, fun to get to know, and who show up on time each day.
It hasn't been all smooth sailing though, as is the way with large projects like this. Things are never straightforward, there is always the 'unknown' revealed when a piece of old cladding is removed and a fresh catastrophe reveals itself, and it's stressful, indeed it is, so much so that I often retreat to my house to read a book, or go up into the bush, hide under a tree and watch the tuis diving and chasing each other about.
The work won't be finished by Christmas, or even New Year's Day, however it will be done in time for summer operations and workshops here at The Writing Place, looking ever-so-flash with it's new roof and smart-looking cladding, and on that note, I hope you can join me for the Summer Writing Salon in February for some fun holiday writing and good discussions with a small group of writers ... and no scaffolding.