Blue Tarps

I find blue tarps irritating. They should bring memories of camaraderie. After all, we spend so much time under them in Maine during our fall camping trips. And maybe that is the problem, so much time, so many years hiding from the snow and rain, being forced to dance around the fire as funneled wind blows smoke in our faces. Looking at my canoe, the failed maze of copper tubing that was going to provide hot water for our hot tub, even my ubiquitous denim jacket, those bring back good memories. Tarps just block our view.
The roofers returned for the last time on Thursday, to finish the tricky skylight detail, to install the gutters and best of all to remove our blue tarps. They are folded and ready to be put back in storage for next fall.
This new format may or may not last. It is MOVABLE TYPE’S web log software that will theoretically allow easier updates, show how cool and current I am, and provide space for comments.
Normally, when I cross Matt’s radar screen, and I could be a block away, out of sight, he pauses, mumbles loser, then resumes whatever it was he was doing. Yesterday’s Father’s Day card.

June 7, framing the deck

Any old day, water torture

Hallelujah