Oliver Pritchett: I miss the builders when they're gone We have all heard of empty nest syndrome, when children finally leave home and parents feel lost, listless and cast down, but a related affliction, known as vacant stepladder blues, is less well known. This occurs when builders or decorators at last finish the job and move out of your house. You never thought you would miss them, but you discover you feel a little pang when you walk into a room and you find there is nobody there sanding the wall or knocking it down, or leaning on it. There is not even a radio playing raucous music loudly to itself. You look out of the window and all you see is view, where there used to be feet on a ladder. Without realising it, you got to know those men; you recognised the different ringtones of their mobile phones. Poignant reminders of their stay have been left behind - an encrusted paintbrush, a hammer, a pair of scuffed shoes, a tattered sweater on a peg behind the door. There's a coffee mug on the doorstep. You recognise it, you know which one of the builders always had that one and you find yourself murmuring: "Milky coffee, one and a half sugars." Their presence meant you always had to keep up certain standards. While they were here you always dressed for breakfast, closed the door when you went to the bathroom and made sure you never ran out of Hobnobs. In a way they were just like your older children. They would go missing for a day or two with no explanation; you would find yourself looking out of the window to see if they were coming down the road. Perhaps one day they'll pick up that sweater. At the moment, we have decorators painting the outside of the house where we live. I keep telling myself not to get too fond of them.