Yesterday we had a crew of roofers here at 27th Street all day. The menagerie was not impressed. The dogs and the cats were all extremely happy to see me when I got home from work (even more than usual), and they gathered around me, with the obvious expectation that I make the banging stop.

The crew almost finished the job when darkness made it unsafe to install that last vent. I’m sure to the dogs and cats, I was the hero, as not long after I came home, the noise stopped. The menagerie likes routine. Everything has to be just so for maximum canine and feline contentment. They would much prefer we just ignore the need for a new roof.

Memphis, one of our two Newfs, won’t eat if there is noise. She just looks at me, sighs and lies down. The other day, there was a wood chipper in operation next door as the builder who bought the place took down the apple tree in the back yard in preparation for his re-building project. I put out doggy dinners on the deck as usual. Georgie didn’t care about the noise. He was prepared to eat his dinner and Memphis’ dinner as well. I brought Memphis’ food back inside, waited until the chipper stopped, then invited her back out on the deck to eat. Yesterday, I simply delayed food for the whole gang until the roofers left.

Construction-type noise has become the norm around here, unusual because since we moved here a number of years ago, our neighbourhood has been very quiet. There are three homes under construction which I can see out my window as I type. The construction guys typically show up at 7 and work at least until dark. By re-doing the roof, we added to the noise for a day. I suppose the best thing is for all the construction that’s going to happen, happens at once, so it is over as quickly as possible.

Aside from the roof work, I’m aware that I have added to the neighbourhood noise – at least during the nice weather – by playing my banjo on the front porch. When I started doing this, I figured it would be a short-lived activity, and if the neighbours didn’t like it, I was ready to take my banjo back inside. So far, there haven’t been any complaints, and in fact several people have told me they enjoy hearing it. Maybe banjo is a healthy antidote to construction? In my own little brain, I’d like to think so.