Dirty Scampy Squirrel

Just so you know, the roof, which we started 40 years ago, is finished. Except for the "shed", which is attached to the house. And painting some new wood trim, which roofer said would be "black" in one month if we didn't paint it "right now." I've got to tell you, HALLELUJAH! I thank the dear Lord that it didn't rain the whole week. The one day it barely sprinkled, the roofer didn't show. The weather was cool enough. No one fell off a roof. And, of course, the roofer actually showed up most days, was a superb craftsman AND ALSO a very nice guy. Yes, a new roof under such unprecedented circumstance calls for celebration. Now I can't wait for it to rain just so I can FEEL what it's like to be leak-free. NO MORE nightmares! Of course, don't get too excited. Pretty soon the same guy is coming back to sand and paint the eaves. Then my worries will go into overdrive -- man on ladder, way up high in sky, up and down ladder every few seconds, I picture it. Well, some of my friends and I have decided that owning a house is SO much responsibility, from the inside out. My, but I need to learn to CHILL!

The whole thing was . . . you guessed it, EXHAUSTING. Today I tried to nap, which didn't work out too well, what with the automatic weapon they employed, I think it's called a Nail Spitter. It had a spiffy little repetitive rhythm: Pow . . . PowPowPow . . . Pow . . . Pow. Somehow I slept through some of it . . . I think. Finally, I had a dream. The roofers were on the verge of finishing up and it started to sprinkle. My niece and nephew showed up in their bathing suits and turned the wet slick new roof into a Slip 'N Slide or a water park or something, careening over the peaks, scraping themselves on the rough shingles, abandoning themselves to reckless fun. It drove me and my over-taxed nerves to distraction, we nearly rolled off the roof ourselves. Then a big burly guy from the crew came over to where I was standing on the roof. He pointedly asked, throwing a wet towel on all the hilarity, You're going to tip the roofer, right? I pointedly asked back, Ummm, what do people usually tip him? He answers, "Well, $200 is nearly to be scoffed at. $500 is good. Plus, this roofer is the best, he is better than the top-of-the-line master craftsmen they use on all the home improvement TV shows." WOW! So, that was the end of my nap, I woke with a start and ran downstairs to tell Mike to be sure and tip the roofer $500. Really, I think this dream was fairly mild considering the relentless staccato nail punches "lulling" me to "sweet" sleep. You can be sure Mike did not tip the roofer $500.

My sister emailed me about a recent post on how my "energy" shake has the opposite desired effect. She writes:

I had a healthy smoothie today with an energy enhancer and immediately following had to go to bed for the rest of the day. lol
I completely understand exhaustion.

I'm telling you, when James Linn eventually threw in that stamina towel over opposing electing the president (read one of my first posts), it was like throwing a pebble in Lake Michigan. The ripples are still rippling. I see it this way -- maybe Uncle Linn's more immediate descendants still claimed some JLinn strength, though to a lesser degree. Because just as the ripples from a stone splashed in water get weaker and weaker the farther removed they are from the point of plunk, so the spunk in Mr. Linn's family is fading away, generation by generation. By now, we are operating on a ghost of a ripple, 250 years of gradual "vitality depletion." This simply explains everything, like why my sister was bedridden upon consuming an energy shake. Yes, the Linn Stamina is at the end of the line. The "stamina" (if you can call it that) my sister and I "possess" bears a mere shadow of a resemblance to the hearty original . . . a mere.

Tonight I was sorting through some of my writing which was written by a former version of myself, me when I was a kid. Okay, so that made precious little sense, I can't think tonight, IS IT ANY WONDER?? I came across some of these papers when I found DTD'S and stepson's essays on ice cream flavors, well, each child's own personal flavor, the "only one" in the world. When I wrote (see above) about painter on ladder in the sky, it reminded me of a poem I wrote in the 5th grade, which poem, actually, I did not come across tonight.

I love to go to the ocean blue,
Then to the prairie sweet with dew.
I love to go to the mountains tall,
And listen to the birdies call.
For God made it all.

Well, I need to find the exact words, but that's what I remember. I think I left out something, like the meat, ya think??

But here's a poem, boy, this one is really gonna grab ya! Word perfect, too. I was 11 when I stunned the world with this bit of brilliance.

Dirty Scampy Squirrel (margins intact, well, forget that, computer "fixes" my margins when I press PUBLISH POST)

I scamp from tree to tree
As dirty as can be
I never think of washing
So I just keep on sloshing
People never look at me
Because of shock that they
might see
And that is why they call
me dirty scampy squirrel

Doesn't that just SCREAM future Poet Laureate Noble Prize Winner?? Do you think kids today are more sophisticated? Maybe a little bit?? Also, I am amused that I "found" this poem two days after, which was two days ago, our local squirrel hit the pavement, you know, dropping like a bomb when tiny branch he was scampering on snapped off of oak tree, way up high. That WAS a shocking squirrel, and no doubt a dirty little slosher, too, who would never DREAM of bathing. But he got MY attention, the scamp surely did.

One more . . . for tonight. Be sure and come back tomorrow when I can "regale" you, ahem, with more of the same. This one I wrote to my granny. The printing looks like I was 9 or 10 when I wrote it. The spelling is ageless. Compare my spelling to DTD'S ice cream essay. Note as well the punctuation. Draw your own conclusions.

DEAR GRANNY
I LOVE (underlined) YOU lots of KISSES (underlined)

I am giving you a little FROG (underlined) to put on your

coat or dresser I hope you like it I made

it at BROWNIS (underlined) that wite stuff under

the pinecone is cotton to keep it from

sliping off when I glued it. They were supost

to be earings-but mommy dose not where them

and I wanted to make something for you

so here is a pinecone cotton earing for you. and letter

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

LOVE Kathy

"Best Granny in the world"

Honestly, if I didn't grow up to be the spittin' image of my former self. You DID notice the capitalizations and underlinings (these days, of course, I go with BOLD)?? AND, I went "quotation marks" happy tonight only to discover I quoted "Best Granny in the world" DECADES ago. Well, that COULD have been subliminal, as I DID read the letter to granny a few hours prior to composing this blog.

Heading for potato chips and sour cream,
KEM