Oh, here we go, with another tale of winter's-comming woe.

Some fornicator, who doesn't like the Bible (big surprise, huh - anyway...) his latest post is ... oh, just another gas-lite (pee-yew-we).  He gleefully claims that getting things fixed is going to get worse for single women, because men aren't going into the trades, and the older tradesmen are retiring - well yeah!  So, gloria, you can't get your roof fixed until mid june?  And it started to leak during that last rain storm?   Ha-ha-ha, heavy rain is on the way - basically the scoffer's take.  

Well shorty, tell that one to Paul the Plumber.  He needs his roof replaced; he'd do it himself, but is unable.  Short on staff, and long on customers; he and his guys have been putting in the overtime; money's nice, but the ot shiola, that gets old after awhile.  Especially, when you're pushing 50, and things...well, you're not 35 anymore. Granted, Paul got a lucky break; Ralph the Roofer will be sending his team in April.  

But still, as i post this entry, Gloria is walking out of wally-world, with two of those tin-foil rectangular baking pans and a sponge mop.  Paul has the pans, but the mop is looking sorry, so he's in the store - but is presently looking at some yard stuff.