It rained all day yesterday. It's raining all day today. The tapping on the roof just goes on and on. Occasionally I pass a cheerful young man in the hall way. "Oh, it's not bad," in response to my sympathy for the weather.
Unremitting cheerfulness. I hear them in the halls. (The walls and floors of the brick school house are brick. There is no private conversation in a hall.) "Hey, Dude." (They call each other Dude.) "Warm crappers!"
Green baseball cap hasn't been on the job for days. The "dudes" up there all wave at me when I come out with my camera.
John here is the foreman of the shingles. He joined me on the sidewalk after this load went up. "You guys sure are singing in the rain up there," I observed. John grinned. This is his slate team. "We're in the groove." He tells me how slate is laid, how the nail holes from the copper flashing are protected from water, how the tacks go in....."
I don't get any of it; I'm just the smiling fool with the camera. "Yea," John said. "A slate roof is a piece of art."
"Thanks for coming out to admire it again. Excuse me now, Joanne, I have to send another load up now."