|poor puppy . . .|
|fog clearing the last morning|
On the plus side, the neighbors dogs came to visit and spent their time chasing the shingles that were being thrown off the roof, we now own a superabundance of old-growth quarter-sawn oak, the stars and fireflies were surreal, and no one was bit by a rattlesnake, hit by lightning or maimed by a collapsing timber (although we are all covered with war wounds). The same neighbor with the dogs also hauled the 70 bags of asphalt shingles away for us, and will likely finish the clean up in exchange for the remaining wood.
It's going to be a busy week . . .