Out of the pool!

The chimney guys came today to reaffix the chapeau which a wind storm had blown off the top of our considerably high chimney a while back. I just happened to see their truck parked outside and opened the door while the one guy was retrieving the piece from the porch. The other guy extended the ladder, a very long ladder, up the side of the chimney, then the first guy climbed it and reattached the hood. I watched this from the living room window, then heard him banging on the top of the chimney. It sounded like he dropped a drill bit into the flue (if that is the case, I�ll find it next time I clean the ashes out of the wood stove), and since I had a fire going, I hoped it wasn�t too hot or smoky for him.

When they were done, the ladder collapsed and reloaded on the roof of their van, I fully expected them to give me a bill, but instead they backed into my driveway and drove away. If I hadn�t happened to notice them at the beginning, I would never have known that they had been.

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Something happened last night which I didn�t mention before, but after talking about it to two friends today, I realize I should really record it. One of the basses in the choir (not Herr Doktor Professor) is a good friend, the same guy who rebuilt my zip disk last summer when I thought I had lost Hubby�s symphony forever, whose wife gave me the jade plant that dominates my dining room and whose mulled wine recipe I posted here a while ago. When I arrived on Saturday night for the concert, there was a joke between us about me pulling my top down a little lower to expose more cleavage. I just laughed this off because I found it funny.

Well, last night he was getting a little too forward. It�s one thing to pretend to look down at my boobs when he walks by, especially since I�m quite short and he is rather tall, but it got to the point where he would touch my shoulder or my hip as he passed, and I was getting rather annoyed. I don�t mind wandering eyes. Wandering hands are another story. He even got a little playful slapping going at one point, so I flicked him back on his arm and said, �Cut it out!� in front of my colleagues as we were lined up to go into the gallery to start the show. I think he got the point, because he didn�t bother me again. One of my friends today thought he might have been testing the waters. Well, sorry dude, I�m not for swimming in.

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