I hardly ever get headaches. I could probably count the number of times I’ve had them in my life. However, I’ve had one long headache since May 29th, when the tornado/ straight line winds slammed trees through our house. Why the headache? Stress? (Maybe.) Lack of privacy? (Possibly.) Lack of sleep? (Mm.) Loud noise. (BINGO!)
I’ve written about loud neighborhood reconstruction noises in previous posts. Now, ten and a half weeks post-storm, there are some familiar old Michigan summer noises filtering into our neighborhood, like lawnmowers, boat motors, birds, frogs, etc. I love Michigan summers. But there are still those reconstruction noises.
I really shouldn’t complain. Reconstruction noises mean that our house is getting worked on, right? We have gone down to one man working on our house for the past five or so weeks. (Things to do differently if catastrophe happens again – and I hope I don’t need to use this – make sure a crew comes in and finishes the work in a week.) Our guy left at 2:30. It was quiet in our house. I could walk freely, with some brief semblance of privacy. However, I happen to know that he is coming back sometime, because he left the air compressor on (a large, startling noise, even after weeks of listening to it click on and off) and he left his cell phone, which apparently rings even when there are messages left. There are two different tones, but with a similarly loud (to hear over nail-pounding and sawing going on today) noise.
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring. Air compressor. Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring. Lawnmower. (Ah.) Ring-ring-ring-ring. (Just in writing this post, the phone has rung about twenty-five times. And to think I’m so shaky that I first misspelled that word as “wrung.” Hm. A certain Austrian neurologist would have something to say about that, me thinks.)
How I long to hear the leaves rustling in the trees, through the few trees which are left in our neighborhood. In the meantime, I’ll continue singing one of my favorite songs of this summer: “I am slowly going crazy. Crazy going slowly am I.”
(Remember, Sandy. Remember this all.)