159, 28897

So, those numbers probably don't make much sense (think of it as a secret message) but that's what I feel just like after spending quality time on the roof in the rain pulling out the remaining bits of shingles that the wind didn't take off the roof in the ginormous wind storm on Monday. I had patched the roof on Saturday and figured there would be plenty of warm days left for the adhesive on the backside of the shingles to heat up and adhere to the shingles beneath. It rained Sunday. The wind blew Monday. The wind blew so hard Monday that it knocked the PeeVee off it's blocks out in the street (it wasn't hurt, merely scared). I got bitched at about the roof yesterday so today I went up.

Other than the rain it was a nice time with the Stellar's Jays (I brought the peanuts, they sang along).

As for the numbers, Blog of a Bookslut posted a link to Wordcount which is a lovely experiment that ranks word useage.

So, having shingled the roof and found a witty way to bitch about it I feel like an (charades; two words) 159, 28897.