Our drive.

At 8.40 this morning a man knocked on the door.

"I'm here to do the drive, I've got a key but I need to plug in my generator, that ok?"

"Um yeah ok" I mumbled, still in my dressing gown, not having a clue who this man was.

Looking down the drive the van parked at the bottom said Carl the Carpenter.

Went to check my phone, had received a text from my landlady a few minutes before.

"Hi, man coming to do the drive this morning, sorry for the inconvenience"

Still not a clue what's going on, who this man is, or what he's going to do to our (at 8am perfectly functional) drive.

The steps into the house need doing, they're crumbling and wobbly, but to my untrained eye the drive looked fine.

This is what the drive looked like this evening, worm's eye view from the doorstep.

Our drive goes steeply downhill, so this is just the tip of the iceberg.

Carl had been working all morning, on his own, with no safety equipment (not even gloves or goggles) churning up the drive with a pneumatic drill thingy.

Oh, and this morning he also told me;

"I'm going to be coming for about two weeks, every morning at 8. Well, you look like students, I'll come at 8.30."

Lucky us.