How Many Roofs Could a Roofer Roof?
There are men on my roof. Roofers. Noisy roofers who got started this morning at 6:30. I can understand why they got started working early. It's hotter than a blazes outside and I imagine that the roof - the roof - the roof is on fire. But, that still doesn't mean I'm happy about strange men banging on my roof early in the morning.
This is the picture I took from the front door just now.
I'm really surprised that it came out so clear because the glass that I was taking it through it much dirtier than I realized. Our maid is seriously slacking.
At the moment, the roof fellas are directly overhead and I fully expect one of them to come crashing through the ceiling at any time. I'm not exactly sure what all is going on up there, but it sounds like an elephant is mating with a walrus - and neither of them sound like they're very good at it. What would the baby of an elephant and walrus be? An elephrus? Walephant?
All of this roofing business would be much easier to take if the roofers were actually hot roofers who insisted on working outside shirtless. There are three of them. I call them Small, Medium and Large. Unfortunately, Large is the only one of the three who likes to work sans shirt.
So, if any of you have a thing for fat, sweaty, shirtless roofers, come on over. We can sit and have iced tea on the back porch while watching tar paper and shingles rain down while the sound of mating wild animals plays in the background. It's just how we entertain in Arkansas.
Be Happy,
Rachel
This is the picture I took from the front door just now.
Nice yard ornaments, huh?
At the moment, the roof fellas are directly overhead and I fully expect one of them to come crashing through the ceiling at any time. I'm not exactly sure what all is going on up there, but it sounds like an elephant is mating with a walrus - and neither of them sound like they're very good at it. What would the baby of an elephant and walrus be? An elephrus? Walephant?
All of this roofing business would be much easier to take if the roofers were actually hot roofers who insisted on working outside shirtless. There are three of them. I call them Small, Medium and Large. Unfortunately, Large is the only one of the three who likes to work sans shirt.
So, if any of you have a thing for fat, sweaty, shirtless roofers, come on over. We can sit and have iced tea on the back porch while watching tar paper and shingles rain down while the sound of mating wild animals plays in the background. It's just how we entertain in Arkansas.
Be Happy,
Rachel
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