Yesterday the roofers arrived to repair my neighbors roof--the damage from Katrina 11 months ago. And suddenly they are in a very big hurry. The house on the opposite side has three pit bulls in the yard, so even though they had a dumpster set up in front, suddenly there was an ongoing cascade of debris coming into my yard and onto my house: slate shingles, nails, little screws with orange plastic washers, new sheets of shingles, gatorade bottles, etc.
I went outside and picked some of it up, got their attention, grimaced, gestured, threw it over the fence. I said something very simple like, "Don't throw anymore into my yard." They nodded. I left for my French final, and returned to see even more debris in the yard.
My dogs didn't like this commotion, particularly Sula, who has been having trouble with storms lately. Yesterday she scraped open her cheeks on her crate trying to get out because of the noise. (If she wasn't in the crate, I worry she might go out a window.) She wasn't like this last summer. This year, she has new anxiety.
So this morning they arrive again, the roofers. And I go get coffee down the street. When I get home, the white noise machine--the TV--isn't working. The dogs don't like this. I walk outside. They are up on a ladder, trying to fish a sheet of shingles off of the satellite arm. I go back inside. Still no signal. I got outside again. They are on the ladder with a three satellite eyes in their hands.
Directv says they can replace it next week. The dogs are not happy.