Shingles

Asphalt ones, that is, not the disease.

Do you know how heavy a bundle of shingles is? I don't know either, other than really damn heavy!

The roofer finally finished everything up so I knew he wouldn't need anymore of the pile of leftover shingles. There are twelve bundles of them. I could have had him take most of them back, but the shed and garage will need new roofs before too long, so I decided to just keep them. I transferred them into the back of the shed yesterday.

I'm sad to admit they kicked my butt. I had to lift them into my garden cart, cart them into the shed as far as I could, then lift them out of the garden cart, and carry them several steps through a narrow path, hefting them up to about my chest to get them over all the other stuff in the shed.

I would never make it as a roofer.

Not only because I can't carry shingles. There was a piece of tin off the roof where the hay is stored, so the roofer fixed it for me. I remained firmly on the ground, thank you very much. As I was moving the pieces of bad tin into the barn to get it away from the animals, I scraped my leg on it. Just a scratch, but I figure I better head to the doctor on Monday for a tetanus shot. It is out of date, and it is probably a good idea anyway when living on a farm with animals and rusty stuff everywhere.

In "Bored Hen-wives" (Thanks, Olga!) news: The hens have switched. The previously flighty one to whom I had given the remaining eggs is now watching over the two chicks while the hen that actually hatched out the chicks is now sitting on the eggs. I was gone most of the day, so I don't know how long, or if, the nest had been abandoned while they worked out the switch. I'll give them two weeks, if a hen stays on the nest.