Ides of March, delayed

Caesar was warned to “beware the Ides of March.”

My Ides of March passed without incident — I just spent the day sanding and painting in Unit Five. It was the day after the Ides of March that made me wary.

The sun was shining in Coldwater, and the temperature warmed up into the 60s, so I sucked it up and forced myself to start tearing shingles off the roof this morning. Once I got over the first wave of paralyzing, irrational terror that caused my legs to lock up and shake so much I couldn’t get off the ladder and onto the roof, I managed to settle in and get something done. It’s much slower going than I would like, but I’ve stripped one whole side of the roof and tarped it just in case we get an unexpected storm overnight.

Joey is in charge of picking up all the old shingles and putting them in the back of the truck. He has decided that he needs a metal detector so he can find all the roofing nails and keep guests from stepping on them. I am pretty sure he does not need any such thing, but I’ll probably get him one anyway, because I am a big pushover.

Oh … and in case you are wondering, I still hate heights.

— Sierra

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