The city code inspector came by the house the other day and noticed that the wood structure that encloses my chimney pipe on the top of the second story roof had peeling paint. I was cited with a city code violation and required to fix it. Yeah, yeah, Mr. Inspector, I noticed that too, I just hadn't gotten around to working on it. But I guess the city code enforcement did their job, and I was now motivated to get the boards replaced and painted sooner than later.
The wife said, you [are too old and] should hire someone to fix it, rather than you falling off the roof. My parents (yes - they still like to offer unsolicited advice), "You should not go up on your roof, you might fall off". My wife called Reuben, one of the many Mexicans that are constantly leaving their cards and fliers at the front door offering their yard work services. Reuben came by and said he could do it for $100. I supply the wood and paint. And "No", Reuben indicated he did not have any insurance for his workers if they fell off my roof.
My Plan? Act like a man, take care of my own house.
Though plenty doubted my abilities: I reasoned, How hard is it to not fall off the roof? I have been not falling off roofs all of my life. I can do that as well as any Mexican. Besides, by the time I buy wood and paint, I might as well do the job myself and do it right.
I purchased pressure-treated 1x4's and while Sue was on the job one Sunday directing her Children's Ministry at church, I set up shop on the vacated garage floor. I laid out the raw boards and began to prime them with a base coat before I was to paint them with a coat of exterior paint. Having all the boards primed with the first coat, I had to let them dry there on the garage floor.
There is a familiar sarcastic phrase used to imply monotony and boredom, "About as exciting as watching paint dry". And so here I was, faced with the unexciting task of waiting and watching the paint dry on my freshly painted boards on my garage floor. Wait, wait, ho hum, wait. Or so I thought.
I left the garage open for the sunshine and breeze to circulated while I went inside to have the last of St. Patrick's Day corned beef in a sandwich. Strider, my 70 lb black dog, saw somebody/something he did not like in the alley. I let him out to go investigate what was on the other side of my iron fence. It is my policy to let strangers in the alley know that an aggressive big black dog patrols this back yard (this policy however, to my great disappointment, does not apply to pecan stealing squirrels due to Strider's ambivalence toward furry woodland creatures). As I moved my corned beef sandwich into the dining room, I could see Strider was very agitated and rather than directing his barking toward the alley, he continued to bark as he moved back toward the house along the fence. I thought that was strange, so I went out to see what was going on.
Strider had alerted me to a young black man inside my open garage with his face pressed up against the window of my car. I confronted him with the question, "What hell are you doing in my garage!?" -- as if I didn't know. I ended up running him off. Then I called 911 and gave a description of the intruder.
I lost 3 straight nights of sleep over my actions/inactions. I now greatly regret not flying into action first and asking questions later. I discovered that my first impulse is reason rather than reflex. I wish I would have reacted with reflex to the obvious criminal intent within my own home. I could have taken the little punk, thrashed him good, taught him a lesson and then hog-tied him and called the cops to take him away. I let a thief inside my house go. That was not justice. I do so regret not making him pay for his brazen criminal intent. I was bigger, I had the element of surprise, I had my chance to clean up the neighborhood and I blew it.
Does crime pay? I fear that by intentionally letting this rat get away, he now thinks he can do it again - no consequence.
Is waiting for paint to dry exciting? Yes, unfortunately it can inspire the fight or flight reflex.
The wife said, you [are too old and] should hire someone to fix it, rather than you falling off the roof. My parents (yes - they still like to offer unsolicited advice), "You should not go up on your roof, you might fall off". My wife called Reuben, one of the many Mexicans that are constantly leaving their cards and fliers at the front door offering their yard work services. Reuben came by and said he could do it for $100. I supply the wood and paint. And "No", Reuben indicated he did not have any insurance for his workers if they fell off my roof.
My Plan? Act like a man, take care of my own house.
Though plenty doubted my abilities: I reasoned, How hard is it to not fall off the roof? I have been not falling off roofs all of my life. I can do that as well as any Mexican. Besides, by the time I buy wood and paint, I might as well do the job myself and do it right.
I purchased pressure-treated 1x4's and while Sue was on the job one Sunday directing her Children's Ministry at church, I set up shop on the vacated garage floor. I laid out the raw boards and began to prime them with a base coat before I was to paint them with a coat of exterior paint. Having all the boards primed with the first coat, I had to let them dry there on the garage floor.
There is a familiar sarcastic phrase used to imply monotony and boredom, "About as exciting as watching paint dry". And so here I was, faced with the unexciting task of waiting and watching the paint dry on my freshly painted boards on my garage floor. Wait, wait, ho hum, wait. Or so I thought.
I left the garage open for the sunshine and breeze to circulated while I went inside to have the last of St. Patrick's Day corned beef in a sandwich. Strider, my 70 lb black dog, saw somebody/something he did not like in the alley. I let him out to go investigate what was on the other side of my iron fence. It is my policy to let strangers in the alley know that an aggressive big black dog patrols this back yard (this policy however, to my great disappointment, does not apply to pecan stealing squirrels due to Strider's ambivalence toward furry woodland creatures). As I moved my corned beef sandwich into the dining room, I could see Strider was very agitated and rather than directing his barking toward the alley, he continued to bark as he moved back toward the house along the fence. I thought that was strange, so I went out to see what was going on.
Strider had alerted me to a young black man inside my open garage with his face pressed up against the window of my car. I confronted him with the question, "What hell are you doing in my garage!?" -- as if I didn't know. I ended up running him off. Then I called 911 and gave a description of the intruder.
I lost 3 straight nights of sleep over my actions/inactions. I now greatly regret not flying into action first and asking questions later. I discovered that my first impulse is reason rather than reflex. I wish I would have reacted with reflex to the obvious criminal intent within my own home. I could have taken the little punk, thrashed him good, taught him a lesson and then hog-tied him and called the cops to take him away. I let a thief inside my house go. That was not justice. I do so regret not making him pay for his brazen criminal intent. I was bigger, I had the element of surprise, I had my chance to clean up the neighborhood and I blew it.
Does crime pay? I fear that by intentionally letting this rat get away, he now thinks he can do it again - no consequence.
Is waiting for paint to dry exciting? Yes, unfortunately it can inspire the fight or flight reflex.
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