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…
When we purchased our home at the end of 2004, we were told that a new roof would soon be needed. Knowing this, it was no surprise to hear the report that some water damage had been discovered. I am grateful that it wasn’t more than the two areas involved — and thankful that I didn’t opt to wait another year to have the job done.
The only problem now is that the roof is looking so nice that the paint job on the house is looking pretty sad. *Sigh* Such is the life of the home owner.
I guess I have something to look forward to…NEXT year.