So just as I was thanking my lucky stars that this has been a disaster-free year, the bathroom ceiling starts leaking. Mercifully this is not actually a bathroom ceiling belonging to me, but one that I rent. So I called my landlady who told me the ice-breaker man would be out in the morning. Another small mercy: morning meant more like 11 which meant I was awake by the time the terrible crashing started and pictures fell from the walls.
For two days in a row Terry came by and hacked huge chunks of ice off of our roof, sometimes from ladders, sometimes from windows, where it would fall two stories to the ground. Now there is no more giant dam of ice keeping water on the roof where it leaks into my bathroom. As I mentioned on Twitter, it’s like our own version of Most Dangerous Catch. Terry is a bit of both a local legend and a town trade secret. He seems to love the work and is good at it. My bathroom has dried up and I’m optimistic that if it starts leaking in the future it will be handled. It’s snowing outside and I’ve got noplace I’ve got to be. Not bad for Winter so far.
Jim and I took a quickie side trip to Burlington because he had never been there. Since I’m not much of a shopper or a money-spender we drove down to the lake to just look at it. Turns out it was frozen sufficiently hard that people were out messing about on the icy surface — skating, sliding, photographing, walking pets, kicking ice. It was a festive and sort of surreal mood. We walked around on it. I, of course, took a few photos.
Yet another of my unstated resolutions is to try to get around my normal cynical overthinking brain and try to say yes to stuff more often. Yes to people coming to visit, yes to invitations to do things, yes to couchsurfers dropping in (hi CJ and Alison!), yes to more work (within reason), yes to “can you help me move?” and yes to “would you like dessert?” among other things. I have a tendency to talk myself out of doing new things because I’m actually pretty happy with the old/existing thing. This is a pop culture thing to do apparently, but I like to think I came up with it on my own.
I’m off to San Francisco tomorrow for a quickie meeting and some burrito eating and by the time I get back on Sunday movers should have gotten all of Kate’s stuff out of Casa Highland. Even though Kate’s move makes all the sense in the world, I think we’re all a little in denial of how great it was to have a clubhouse (and a parking space!) in the city. I’ll miss the old place.