O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

 I actually walked through the living room this morning in my nightgown.

Today was the first weekday in three weeks that I haven’t either scurried across my living room or edged crab-like around the edges of the furniture to get to the kitchen in fear that a roofer might be peering down from our skylights.

          They don’t seem to be working today; 5-day holiday weekend?

          We kind of reached the breaking point Tuesday. My Guy had gone out Monday night at 11:00 p.m. to move his car from the garage to the spot in the driveway where the roofers have been parking their supply truck. For three long weeks. In theory we can get around it, but it’s difficult.

 Tuesday we looked out at 7:30 a.m. to see our nemesis parked next to My Guy’s car, making it impossible for me to exit my garage.

          I didn’t catch the full conversation (probably a good thing) but 30 seconds later I could hear emanating from the driveway area, “. . . NO MORE!. . .NO MORE!”

 

 

    

 

 

      On a happier note, I strolled through the yard and found my astilbe having its own quiet party, backed up by the baby clematis I thought had died.