And up on the roof there arose such a clatter!
I first noticed the noise while sitting in front of the computer. It sounded like someone was pounding on the outside of the house!
I left my office and hurried to the living room to investigate the strange sounds. Mist, as always asleep in my chair, was sitting upright and looking distressed.
In front of the house, a very large white truck was backed into the driveway. A long orange arm extended from the flatbed to our roof. The conveyor belt rattled and roared. A gentleman stood on the truck, loading bundles of shingles one by one onto the conveyor belt.
Mist had disappeared into one of her secret hiding places below stairs. I threw on my coat and shoes and out I went.
They were busy at it. There was another gentleman on the roof, carrying each bundle to the peak, stacking them securely. They both smiled and nodded, continuing with their tasks. During a slight lull in their activity, I ventured near the truck and asked if they were the same fellows who would be "nailing them down"?
"No ma'am," said the fellow in the wool cap, "they'll follow us in the next few days."
We have found a company that promises to put a new roof on the house before winter sets in. Now that the shingles have arrived, I am feeling much more optimistic that they will actually succeed.
The sun has not been shining. Men who shingle have not been busy these last days, days that seem like weeks, perhaps even months.
That was yesterday.
This morning the doorbell rang just after dawn.
"We're here to do the roof," said the man at the door, "could you move your car out of the driveway?"
"I will just get dressed and be right out," I said.
"Oh heck," I thought, "I will just skip the getting dressed, and do this quickly, dressed as I am."
Out I went. Just as I slipped the key into the lock on the car door, the gentleman came down the driveway.
"Actually," he said, "we are supposed to be doing a duplex this morning. You are not a duplex. Sorry. Tomorrow."
He jumped into the cab of the truck and off they drove.
Rather comic, really, to see a mature woman in a mauve housecoat standing in the street in front of her house, slippers in the snow; staring forlornly at the back of a yellow truck.
Tomorrow I will be dressed before light, and waiting for these fellows.
|RECIPES :: Cast
Waiting for the sun.
By the Easy Chair
1871 Census of Ontario
Wind: W 17 km/h
Sunrise 7:32 AM EST
Sunset 4:52 PM EST
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