It'll get worse before it gets better.

It'd better be worth it

The house has been covered in tarpaulins for a week and a half now and all the windows are blacked out.  It gets hosed down daily so the render doesn't dry too quickly, even though it doesn't really stop raining.  The front garden is a foot deep in detritus and the back garden isn't much better.  The Man Who Can, is taking the opportunity while the scaffolding is in place to repair one of the chimneys.  It's extremely windy up there and as I sit at the dining table I can hear him quietly swearing down the chimney as the mortar blows off his trowel.

On the up side we have found out all sorts of things about our house as we have pared back the layers.  There is a man sitting on scaffolding for hours on end hammering away as he repairs our cherished timber and brick infill gable.  All the chaps speak about it lovingly and in hushed tones and I get  frequent lectures on bricks, their sizes, ages and colours.  And we have found medieval great bricks in the oddments used to build the garden wall.  Apparently there are also some up the chimney.  We might never have known.