why is it....

that in Spain, a country not exactly known for its punctuality, its sledgehammer-wielding construction workers begin their day at precisely 8 am? But seriously, this gutting of the neighbors' house is becoming worrisome. Friday I had to remove two stone planters, one of which was directly above my head, from the wall because it was shaking so much. And yesterday I noticed the wall on the terrace had buckled, and there are many more cracks. When the banging began this morning, I took my bedheaded, pajama-clad self up to the terrace to speak to the men. They told me my terrace wall was like that before (ha!); R. then popped his head out his bedroom window, and said "Absolutely not." The men's response, that infuriating shrug of the shoulders, and "Well, it's an old house." To which I replied, "They are ALL old houses!" One of the workers then said, "Not this one; it's going to be brand new." Urgh....must now call Aurelio so that he can have a look at the terrace wall. More later, after the vet visit. I have been reading up on dogs and their ear problems, and I have many questions for the vet.... hasta pronto, mylifeinspain