We are having the city's main sewerage pipes re-routed along our road past our gate. First the notice and map came in the mailbox. Then a few visits from the apologetic engineers themselves to explain what we could expect and for how long. The roadworks began before Christmas and still continue. There is a caged-off area down at the park that contains massive black pipe sections and a little 'house' where they seal them together. Each week-day morning we are shaken awake with the rumble of massive diggers rolling along the road. The traffic crawls past, directed by two polite 'lollipop' people either end of the work. There is dust all over the property. Sometimes when I and my immediate right-of-way neighbours emerge from our joint drive entrance we have to wait while they rush to lay down a huge slab metal 'drawbridge' over the yawning ditch.
This morning a young man came to the door. My son answered it.
"Are you expecting a one-and-a-half tonne digger to be delivered here this morning?"
"But isn't this [number of our house]?"
"Yes" said J, "but we are not expecting a digger this morning."
He said he kicked himself later.