Yesterday morning Simon the chimney sweep showed up with his big ladder, climbed onto the wet roof, diagnosed the problems, and patched our gaps till spring, when he will come back to do a permanent repair job. What a relief. All hail to friendly guys who can do many things.

Afterward T and I took a trip out to his worksite to return the ladder he'd borrowed. It directly overlooks the sea, and even a day after the gale the waves were still wild and crashing and dangerous. I'm not sure why anyone would choose to build a $20 million mansion on an unprotected bluff staring into open ocean at a time when climate change is clearly wreaking havoc via sea level and storms. But rich people are strange.

Afterward, we returned the land of the normal: we stopped at the hardware store and ate free popcorn, and I bought a brush to clean hair out of the bathroom drain, and T bought electrical supplies to fix the lights in the kitchen. Then we came home, and he fixed the lights, and I did not clean anything in the bathroom but lay on the couch reading my Goodwill-purchased copy of Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See, which is my friend Ang's current favorite novel so I thought I should find out why.

Today, for the first time ever, T is enjoying MLK Day as a paid holiday. It's a novelty for me too. I've got some work to do--a manuscript back from an author, a zoom meeting--but I probably won't get serious about employment till tomorrow. Slow mornings together are too rare to waste. And then, late afternoon, I'll distance-watch the Bills playoff game with my son. A family weekend, even with the family spread across the country . . . phone chatter with James, three-way exchange of goofy cat photos, playing silly games. For instance, our current one:

Dawn, bringing Tom a cup of coffee: The Baltimore Ravens are doing really well this year. I wonder if that's because they named their team after a poem.

Tom, lying in bed barely awake: The New York Wasteland.

Dawn, texting Paul about this new idea: The Buffalo Howl, the San Francisco Inferno . . .

Paul, winning the game: The Cincinnati Tyger Tygers.