Last night I suffered a post-work flashback to my nearly forgotten youth as a Boy Scout, tying down the loose corner of carport awning then lugging columns of empty book boxes and several half-primered bookshelves into the garage for shelter.
Be Prepared!
Mother Nature laughed, wiping away my look of smug satisfaction with high winds that disjointed the ridge poll sometime in the pre-dawn hours. Off to work, the open door revealed a vista of ominously sagging awning, pregnant with rainwater and growing more rotund by the second.
I sprang into action, effecting repairs with the help of a convenient pair of milk crates (for loft) & a roll of Gorilla Tape (for structural support). Alas, I was soaked head to toe in the course of performing the necessary liquid abortion. Retiring for a costume change, I found the wife channeling Tom Courtenay circa The Dresser, having laid a dry outfit out. I essayed the role of a (hopefully more appreciative) Albert Finney, drenched and fuming from my detoured departure.
On my second departure I had to fight the urge to shout STOP....THAT.....RAIN!
4 comments:
But you LOVE the rain, no? Not so much today?
It was more of a cinematic imperative than an atmospheric one.
Although I emphatically did not appreciate my drenching at the time...
Well played good sir. WELL PLAYED.
it also cornholed the driveway carport- MOTHER NATURE HAS MUCH TO ANSWER FOR.
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