Delaying the inevitable

I decided to remember the Sabbath today — not so much because I had any delusions about keeping anything holy around here, but because I was exhausted and really needed a break.

God must have approved, because He smiled on me tonight. I’d originally planned to start replacing that roof on Units One and Two tomorrow, but right at this moment, Coldwater is living up to its name: It is 37 degrees outside, a chilly rain is falling lightly over the high desert, and the weather man is calling for rain and snow tomorrow.

I couldn’t start that roofing project tomorrow if I wanted to.

Isn’t that a shame? I guess I’ll be forced to spend the day inside, sanding and painting Unit Five, instead of climbing up a ladder to rip old shingles off a roof that may or may not support my weight.

That’s just a terrible shame. Really it is.

On an unrelated note, Harvey was excited about the guests who arrived this evening. A couple from Michigan checked in with two of the prettiest little spaniels I have ever seen. Harvey wanted to play with them, but he was about four times their size and waaaaaay too enthusiastic, so I made Joey take him outside, lest he accidentally hurt them in his exuberance.

Harvey was very disappointed with this development, so Joey and I made it up to him later by baking some peanut-butter-and-bacon-chip cookies.

When we finished, I got to thinking about my grandmother — whose house always smelled like a mixture of bacon grease and cigarette smoke — and I did something I haven’t done in years: I went down to the convenience store and bought a pack of Camels.

I didn’t smoke them. I just sat in the kitchen and lit one and watched it burn and thought about Grandma and Grandpa and wondered what they would think if they could see me now, driving a beat-up old pickup truck and renovating a beat-up old motel in the middle of nowhere on a beat-up old road that they must have traveled many times when they were my age.

I want to believe they would be proud of me.

— Sierra

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