I’m a little tired and sore after running 20 miles followed by a few hours of dancing yesterday. If I had any desire to sleep in this morning, my body was not in agreement. By 5 am, my mind had me completely awake.
I stayed curled up in the warmth of my bed for a few more hours. This was when the truckloads of men arrived at my home. I got up quickly and dressed as the ladder fell against the garage and the first man climbed onto my roof. It’s not that my jammies are so sexy; it’s just the idea of men, whose name I don’t even know, being able to see me in apparel other than clothing.
The men didn’t waste any time; they got right to work flinging my shingles too and fro…and into a huge pile on my roof. Boom Boom Pow: sounds of banging, drilling, sawing, and hammering have been a constant. It’s comforting in an odd way. Perhaps I’ve missed the energy of testosterone running through my house. The majority of my life has been testosterone rich, you know.
YaYa and I slipped out for Sunday Mass, then headed into a quaint part of town for coffee. We watched the local marathon runners shuffling past and offered encouragement. Then, the call came in…