The blackbirds must have chosen a nest site that is easily spotted by the local cats. And now they are exhausting themselves jumping up and down on the fence or in a tree, shouting "There's a cat! There's a cat!" in blackbird-speak. They spend so long doing that, I begin to wonder if they have enough time and energy left to gather food for the nestlings (their second batch this year).
And the black cat from across the street strolls casually along the path, glancing up at the birds just out of reach in the little trees, and then stops to drink from the ground level bird bath, before sauntering off to check out another garden.
Meanwhile, the bathroom fitter is hammering, bashing and crashing as he removes the fittings, tiles, carpet, the lot, from the bathroom. From time to time he calls me to make a decision about the exact place one of the new items is going to go.
Then another call - can I find a couple of old towels - quick!
While he is cutting a hole in the floor for new pipework, the cutting machine has caught a (plastic) pipe to the existing radiator, and water is spurting out under the floor, onto the ceiling of the kitchen below.
Frantic scrabbling to shove a thick towel underneath, then I take over pressing my thumbs onto the ends of the pipes, while he swiftly grabs some valves and seals the cut pipe ends. And what looked like gallons of water gushing out turns out to be just a couple of damp towels.