Of the many things I like about Ed, one trait that stands out is that he has a sound grasp of professional norms for jobs about which I am clueless. For instance, today, as I precariously balanced myself on the glass roof of the porch, he shouted out -- Gorgeous, roofers never move backwards. Ever. Just keep that in mind.
It is true that Ed himself has put down at least one roof in his life (the sheep shed) and has fixed leaks in the farmhouse roof on the rare occasion that one has sprouted, but I can't recall any of his friends being roofers. And yet, he knows. And he is correct, of course and I am grateful for this wise tip, because the porch roof (both the glass panels and the strips of wood holding them down) is very very slippery when wet. You have to know what you're doing when you venture out to do some maintenance up there.
So now you know my day: after a quick survey of the garden...
...and after a very protracted and chatty breakfast (how cool is it in the mornings? Cool enough for me to bring out a throw for my lap!)...
... I had Ed hoist up the hose as I climbed out the bathroom window onto the roof, with rag in hand.
The glass panels get a solid coating of pollen in the late spring and early summer. Rain does not wash it off. You have to scrub them down. In previous years, I'd work with a pail of water and scouring materials, but this year's idea of running the hose up there was brilliant: I could really keep the glass clean as I mopped my way from one panel to the next.
(the view from up there is pretty nice...)
It took more than two hours and I have to admit, by knees are pretty battered. They look like those of a kid just learning to ride a bike. Still, the effort was well worth it!
You have to wonder how long I'll feel myself to be agile enough to take on this task. At 67, I think I exceed the average age of a roofer. When I raise the possibility of someday not being quite up to the job, Ed reminds me that we don't have to scrub the roof.
And that leads me to wonder -- why did I do it? For the next several months, no one, absolutely no one will visit the porch of our farmhouse. No family dinners, no friends flying up for a farmhouse stay, none of that.
And yet, that crystal clear view up to the sky is somehow regenerative, refreshing, and revitalizing. Hi world! We're still here, loving the beauty of the landscape, of the blue sky, waiting for better days for us all...
(looking up, from our perch on the porch...)
In other news, Ed and I hopped on our bikes in the late afternoon, both for the exercise and because it truly is one heck of a gorgeous day. Not many photos for you -- our route is mundane -- to the lake and back again. But it truly is a fine day to be cycling the rural roads of the upper Midwest.
(back home, watching the birds and the bees, and the flowers and the trees... no moon though!)
I hope you had time to get outdoors as well. To find that calm that comes from movement and from the warmth of the late summer sun.
It is true that Ed himself has put down at least one roof in his life (the sheep shed) and has fixed leaks in the farmhouse roof on the rare occasion that one has sprouted, but I can't recall any of his friends being roofers. And yet, he knows. And he is correct, of course and I am grateful for this wise tip, because the porch roof (both the glass panels and the strips of wood holding them down) is very very slippery when wet. You have to know what you're doing when you venture out to do some maintenance up there.
So now you know my day: after a quick survey of the garden...
...and after a very protracted and chatty breakfast (how cool is it in the mornings? Cool enough for me to bring out a throw for my lap!)...
... I had Ed hoist up the hose as I climbed out the bathroom window onto the roof, with rag in hand.
The glass panels get a solid coating of pollen in the late spring and early summer. Rain does not wash it off. You have to scrub them down. In previous years, I'd work with a pail of water and scouring materials, but this year's idea of running the hose up there was brilliant: I could really keep the glass clean as I mopped my way from one panel to the next.
(the view from up there is pretty nice...)
It took more than two hours and I have to admit, by knees are pretty battered. They look like those of a kid just learning to ride a bike. Still, the effort was well worth it!
You have to wonder how long I'll feel myself to be agile enough to take on this task. At 67, I think I exceed the average age of a roofer. When I raise the possibility of someday not being quite up to the job, Ed reminds me that we don't have to scrub the roof.
And that leads me to wonder -- why did I do it? For the next several months, no one, absolutely no one will visit the porch of our farmhouse. No family dinners, no friends flying up for a farmhouse stay, none of that.
And yet, that crystal clear view up to the sky is somehow regenerative, refreshing, and revitalizing. Hi world! We're still here, loving the beauty of the landscape, of the blue sky, waiting for better days for us all...
(looking up, from our perch on the porch...)
In other news, Ed and I hopped on our bikes in the late afternoon, both for the exercise and because it truly is one heck of a gorgeous day. Not many photos for you -- our route is mundane -- to the lake and back again. But it truly is a fine day to be cycling the rural roads of the upper Midwest.
(back home, watching the birds and the bees, and the flowers and the trees... no moon though!)
I hope you had time to get outdoors as well. To find that calm that comes from movement and from the warmth of the late summer sun.
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