No hay paz más.

Excavations are taking place on the former wasteland below the house, formerly covered in trees and shrubs (and a lot of birdsong). The main tree was chopped down last week, but now the big guns have moved in, scooping up the vegetation and roots first, then pile-driving the ground to reveal meters-deep solid rock which they are intent on pulverising to create a level patch on which to build. The sound of that drill splitting rock is indescribable, unless you can imagine being in the front row of a slash-metal rock concert and next to the largest speaker. It starts at 8am on the dot (although you can hear the machine powering up ten minutes earlier) and continues until the sun goes down, although thankfully, being Spain, there is a siesta observance between 1 and 3 pm, which is just enough time to take some paracetamol and try to chill out a bit.
Bad timing as I went back to the doctor today to get my test results: bloods and ECG normal, but BP high and variable, so I now have a new prescription for meds, and have to try not to get stressed. Aaaargh! Loki, being a collie sensitive to sound, is freaking out with the noise and is afraid to go out and face the huge monster he thinks is in the garden. Actually, being only 10 meters away over the wall, it may as well be.