Being a golden oldie, I no longer really get eager about things today. I look forward to certain things, like the birth of my first grandson this year. Last year I learned the real meaning of becoming eager.
When workmen take over your daily life and when you live behind scaffolding for eight months you will be glad one day to see the end of it all. Your new collegues are the workmen that greet friendly when they begin their scraping and drilling in the early morning hours. They are always present, they cover your garden in plastic so that they can pile up the material they remove from the walls.
No problem, one day they will be finished and they will go. They arrived in April for a so-called six month job, and they were still there after six months. You began to hate the men in white, you were tempted to hide their machines when they went home in the evening.
They even had a locked iron door at the back of the house to stop people climbing onto the scaffolding when they went home. One day the lock had disappeared and no-one found it. They asked me if I knew anything and of course I said “no” but I am sure they did not believe me. I do not know where the lock went and I did not care, none of my business. We were finding screws and nuts and bolts all over our garden, so I collected them. No-one seemed to miss them and they were the sort of special additions that might be useful one day.
And so I discovered eagerness. I was counting the days when the scaffolding would be removed, when my garden would become a garden again and when I could lead my life without having iron bars in front of me or being able to have a midday sleep without the perpetual vibrations of a drill or pneumatic screwdriver. After eight months they left I would so liked to have said goodbye to Mario, Luigi, Ali, and how they were named, but they just disappeared without a word and it was quiet, peaceful. I waved goodbye to the last truck loaded with the metal scaffolding (in secret of course) and the lock to the door on the scaffolding never did turn up again, or perhaps it is in my garden cupboard. 🙂