A roofing we will go!

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Jack just gets under the wire in time this week – –

Roofing work is both necessary and difficult to get done. Our house is old and has steep roofs at strange angles. We couldn’t find anyone locally who seemed willing to accept the challenge. These days, a roofer seems almost as rare as a good deal on beef.
But ‘word of mouth’ is a great thing and through friends of Wendy’s we were put in touch with Mikey!

Mikey had fitted a woodstove for one of Wendy’s day job board members. He lives in Norton, which is a two hour drive from here, but was willing to make the journey once he saw the property where we wanted our own wood stove fitted. It is near a well-stocked fishing stream. Mikey and his work associate James showed up with all the tools and a bunch of fishing poles.

So far so good.

They did an excellent job and we mentioned our roof, more in hopes that he knew someone than anything else, but “that’s what I do” he said. “I fit stoves as an extra job. My main trade is roofing.”

What could we say? As with so many things in life, we lucked into a wonderful moment through relationships.

So last week he and his team—consisting of James, Mikey’s sister Christie, and her son whose name we never did catch but who closely resembled Johnny Depp—camped out every night at our property (and presumably fished) and came in every morning and worked on our roofs here all day (and sometimes till the light was waning).

They all worked hard and never wasted a minute. We began to think of them as the Starship Enterprise – Mikey was Cap’n Kirk, issuing the orders; Christie was Uhuru, running from front yard to back to shout things at the roofers who couldn’t see or hear each other, and picking up tools that suddenly came flying over the guttering; and James was Scotty—when it was going wrong, he had duct tape. Or glue, or something.

There was a funny night when they thought they would finish – at least Cap’n Kirk did—and the nephew “Johnny” (who might have been a Klingon) threatened to quit if the captain issued one more frustrated order. If you’re not the person on the roof screaming at the crew to keep it together and get home tonight, it’s adorable to hear. If you are the person being screamed at, probably not so much…

Family is family. The next morning they were all still talking to each other, and right cheerful. And by that extra day’s evening, the roof was good and tight. We know because the day after they all went home, it started raining. And didn’t stop for two days.

Wendy, being Wendy, wanted a slight home improvement during the roofing: the opportunity to position a rain barrel to provide water to our washing machine. I know Mikey is a good man because, at 9 pm as dusk was not so much falling as giving way to pitch black, he fitted her rain barrel for her, and gave a courtly bow before driving off into the sunset—well, starlight—in his pick-up.

Our new roof is warm and cozy. Our new friends come highly recommended. And Wendy is already making plans for the washing machine…. Sigh…..

The Monday Book – Florence Adler Swims Forever by Rachel Beanland

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Guest review by Janelle Bailey, retired Literature teacher.

I no longer recall exactly who prompted my adding this book to my tbr pile (please identify yourself if it was you!), but I am still and always of the mind that something divine happens in my selecting what to read at all, let alone “next.”

What is it, but something orchestrated elsewhere, that compelled me to, in this case, first pack this book among the 16 I took on our annual camping vacation (me figuring that we were headed out for 13 days, and I could NOT run out of books–can only have too few along, never too many–and I don’t like being locked in but prefer, instead, to create a little stacked library in the camper and get to choose each new read as I finish the previous)? Then, second, what compelled me to pick it up “last” on that trip, such that I had barely begun it by the time we returned home?

I have no idea (keep reading).

This book’s main characters, the Adlers, are members of the Jewish community in Atlantic City in 1934. They keep the faith and adhere to, honor its customs, and are also concerned for the well-being of others connected to them who are still in Nazi Germany and seeking emigration to the U.S., as things heat up there. And this is just one of the book’s layers, then, this sharing of Jewish customs and practices, which includes, due to the storyline, the practice of burial as soon after death as possible and then a week of Shiva.

And it was as I was finishing the book last night that I learned of the sudden passing, Tuesday, of a colleague and with whom I had met via Zoom just Monday morning, and that his funeral is tomorrow, Shiva starting shortly afterwards. And that is part of what I am still trying to understand: how this very book made it into my hands and reading eyes at this very time for me to be reminded of these Jewish customs of death, as well as the meaning of life in the faith. Beanland presents here through her characters that the “most important question” is “Whether you’ve been a good person. Done good things for other ” (142). And in the case of my recently departed friend, there is nothing but a clear and very certain “Yes, he did!” response to that most important question. And I am pleased to know that and have learned that through my reading of this work of literature simultaneous to his passing. May his memory be a blessing to all who knew him.

And as for the “rest of the book,” it is simply very well done. While its main character and her plight–to swim the English Channel–are fictitious, Beanland is honoring her great great aunt who shares first names with the main character, Florence, and who was also a swimmer who also died in a swimming accident. She has certainly honored the memory of her family in creating this story, which allows Florence to “live” for as long as it helps others to believe that she is.

Fearing I’ve already told you too much, I’m going to stop right there and suggest that…as I often do…you read it yourself. It’s a good one.