Every year for the past few years we have seen at least one small 1940s home torn down on every block in our neighbourhood. The houses that are replacing these tiny bungalows are huge and often built as close to the edge of the property line as possible. This particular beast has a foundation so large that the neighbours on the west side had no dirt under their deck posts for a couple months, and the neighbours on the east side had a gaping hole under the edge of their driveway.
This particular house is across the alley from us so construction is all I’ve seen and heard through my studio window all summer. The workers took early August off but then arrived with four different types of vehicles which they ran all day. In this photo you can’t see the trucks for the trees, and thankfully you, reader, cannot hear them. You also cannot feel my house shake each time the shovel from their digging truck hits the earth. I think they were digging for sewer or water mains, because now there is a big dip in the alleyway.
My creative work focuses on sound and attention. This summer has not been a good working summer for me because of the constant noise. For once I’m actually looking forward to the bitingly cold Saskatchewan winter so I can work in peace. I just hope that the rental property that just went up for sale across the street in the front of our place is not another tear down.
My Locker Room Epiphany
How Finding Nemo Gave Me Hope.
The House that Built Me.
A Curse for This Town; What a Beautiful Town
Words to Places; Scents to Memories
Move Around - Around - Around - Around
Why I hate going to public pools and the beach.
Spring and Such