There's a hole... .

An old children's song goes, "There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza," to which Liza answers, "Then fix it, dear Henry"; the song goes on with questions and answers, finally finishing when Henry, needing water to wet a stone to sharpen an axe, is told to get water in the bucket and the song starts again. Well, at this house there is a hole in the roof. That is Justin standing beside it. This morning there was a dormer there with a large fan in it. The fan will be replaced in  a gable, but right now there is a hole in my roof, dear Justin. The fan had been blocked off by earlier residents who wanted to be air-conditioned all the time, but I love using it in fall and in spring into the early summer. The thing is a monster, and it pulls air through the whole house. The switch to it looks like something you should throw to light a factory.

There is still something to enjoy, though. This quince is between our house and the neighbor's drive. The lovely color of quince flowers has always been a favorite of mine - not quite pink, not nearly orange, just pretty. This photo emphasizes the pinkness of the blossom, but they are still beautiful. Behind it is a Forsythia waiting to spring into yellow bloom and remind us of sunshine. Since the earliest of these pictures was taken the clouds have blown in again and the air has gotten colder. With the back of the house nearly open it is rather chilly in here. I spend a lot of time in front of the heater that my dear sister-in-law gave me for Christmas a year ago.

This too shall pass- the weather will warm, the project be finished, the outdoor work will call. All is well.



Popular posts from this blog

When there is no map

A Story About a Painting