Today was duller than doornails. Precisely the way I like it. A whisker before noon I'm awakened with . . . what else . . . POUND, POUND, POUND. I'm beginning to believe that you'll be as happy as I when this roof job is FINISHED. At least today he was working on the first-story roof, which contributed to the dullness of the day. I'm not nearly so afraid of him falling off a mere one-story.

In the afternoon, which came about quickly after I arose, like in one minute, I took Jazzi down the street so I could view the completed second-story roof. It looks so nice. But it's not even close to the color of shingles I picked out from the board of sample shingles. I went with a darkish color called Heatherblend. It's supposed to have blue and tan specks on a chocolate chip brown background. It does on the sample. On my roof, in the overcast Florida October day, it looks light reddish brown. Geez, I need a box of Crayolas. It's a light taupe, kind of, which Webster declares is "a moderate to dark brownish gray." (With a red cast, I add.) Well, Webster's definition (minus my addition) sounds more like the color I DID NOT pick, called Weathered Wood. Who would pick a color like that?? That's the last color I wanted, it looks like old crummy pavement. I'm trying to GET AWAY from the weathered wood look, like you know I want my gangplank walkway to the front door extirpated. So, if you think paint chips don't tell the whole story, shingle chips are way worse. How do they expect you, especially if you are decorator-challenged, to visualize a whole huge roof from a teensy weensy sample that they warn won't be the color you wind up with anyway -- dye lots and all that. I fully expect that come summer, in the bright Florida sun, the roof will look stark white.

Well, when Jazzi and I were walking back up the driveway, I heard a sudden but brief crash/skirmish type of activity. (BTW, two days in a row of driveway excitement, read yesterday's blog, what's the world coming to?) Jazzi and I wheeled around and there in the middle of the street was a tiny branch of oak tree, I mean so small a baby could brandish it, and one VERY STILL squirrel. I froze to the spot, as you might expect, based on my responses in other emergency situations. At least it wasn't the roofer. It took about 30 seconds for me to gather my wits, you know, work up the nerve to go inspect the poor deceased rodent, check his pulse and all, when a car noise brought the dead squirrel back to life in a jiffy, and he jumped up and scampered off like it was all in a day's work, to fall with a flimsy branch, from way up high, to the pavement beneath. I hope he learned something from his brush with death, to be a little more cautious. That, my friends, was my excitement for the day. But I have to say, it was interesting to me, since I've been so worried about the roofers tumbling down all week. You know, to have the squirrel fall practically on my head, when I spend a grand total of 30 seconds outside each day, apart from my walk, if I walk. And how many times does a squirrel go splat in the street aside from being run over by a car? That was strictly Providential, I would say. I can say that because the squirrel appeared no worse for the wear. I was wondering what I could POSSIBLY blog about on such a dull day.

Okay, for years I have had RECURRING nightmares about this roof. A big huge rainstorm comes up and my ceilings start sprouting leaks all over the house. First one, then another. I'm running around with a bucket collecting drops from this leak and that. I grow frantic as more and more leaks start and I can't keep up. Pretty soon the ceilings give way and water is gushing into the house. It's such a lost cause. I wonder if this imagery is somehow connected to when my grandfather had water gushing from his forehead, if you read my earlier blog. Whew, I have another dreadful recurring nightmare which I TRULY wish would exhaust itself. At the beginning of the school year the teacher says, You MUST read the entire science text by the final exam. This is high end science, 900-some pages and completely out of my realm of comprehension. Of course, I put it off, put it off, never read it at all. Well, that teacher is replaced by another teacher in the middle of the year, who never mentions Boo! about reading the science text. So I just say, GOOD, got out of THAT ONE! Two nights before the exam the teacher says, like small potatoes, when someone was dumb enough to ask, the someone probably being KEM, Oh, sure, you have to have read the entire text. Well, cramming is one thing, but this thing was unquestionably IMPOSSIBLE. Every time I dream this nightmare, I just feel sick, Sick, SICK. But writing it out is making me feel better, when I see it on paper I know it is just my imagination, but based on a life of procrastination just the same.

This afternoon when I came downstairs, having slept a very long time, Mike said expectantly, Do you feel all renewed and invigorated? I said, with zero spunk, mopey-like, I feel better. Mike thinks this is very funny, that I can't admit if I feel good. He's waiting for me to jump up and down and be raring to go. He might be waiting a VERY LONG time.

I topped off my dull day by trying to read old newspapers in an effort to diminish the pile on the dining room table (where we eat, it's the only table in the house). Really, I have to rummage up some discipline in my life. A few years ago my sister clipped to her refrigerator an article on discipline. The gist of it was that if we don't exercise personal discipline our life is going to be a total wash. ONLY through discipline and will power are we ever going to amount to a hill of beans, at the very least. I wish I had a copy of that article. It's true. Once I read, I think it was in ASK MARILYN, maybe, what one element MUST a successful person have. I learned that you can overcome bad nerves, shyness, lack of monstrous intelligence, luck, position, etc. The one common trait successful people had was the DISCIPLINE to stay motivated and work hard. Without that you may as well dig your grave, one sloppy shovelful at a time. So, on that note, I think I'll go grab some Spritz cookies with raspberry jam dots in the center and go read some more old newspapers. And worry about my scattered life habits, which so far have produced a one-bean hill, tomorrow.

Finding out RESULTS follow WORK,
KEM