Due to all the rain, snow, slush, sleet, freezing rain, and ice delivered in copious amounts to the top of my house this past week, my roof decided to absorb an inordinate amount of moisture. And then it passed it on to my ceiling, who then deposited lovely chunks of plaster onto my cherry floors. Soon it was raining in my kitchen. It soaked through a towel and a half before it finally slowed down. At that point, I called my friend Henny Penny. “The sky is falling!” I said. “Let’s go out for dinner.”
“Call me if the roof falls in,” I told the sitter on my way out.
No need to fear. The roof is still there. So is the ceiling. Well, most of it. . .