The Singed Shingler

Having been a bit slack on the up-keep lately (job change, house change, two weeks of vacation) let me just say: I’m back.

In the last two months I’ve started smoking (meats on the grill), assembled an AR-15 rifle entirely from scratch, cut down two trees, applied for a permit to hunt alligators like "Swamp People", cleaned my workshop, stole an entire aluminum boat from my Uncle John and, the most significant accomplishment of my summer: I signed my wife up for shotgun-shooting competitions and boxing classes.

Ahthankyou.

Having been married approximately zero times in the past – the surprises keep on a’ rolling in. It’s been a month of ups-and-downs. Last week I was shocked and saddened to find that some sort of rodent snuck into the house during an exterior door renovation project and made merry with my turkey feather collection – eating the entire top off my most favorite gobbler beard.

That’s not the big shock though, so hang on; everyone who read the TurkeyRat post knows that rodents think turkey parts are candy. The shocker is this: Tyler didn’t care. What she DID care about is that there was a mouse in the house at some point. I’m standing there in torment, I mean truly suffering over the loss of this magnificent dangly turkeybeard, and all she can do is squeal shrilly over the presence of a larcenous mouse.

I call that INSENSITIVE.

To make matters worse: I also had some of my favorite gear stolen out of my truck this month. Clearly some jaundiced, hell-bound bag of garbage thought he needed some of my favorite hunting and fishing stuff more than I did. Congratulations, sir, you are the owner of several fine things for free. I salute you.

I suffered manfully through the shocking waves of loss and violation that washed over me for a number of days after the sanctity of my vehicle had been violated, then I finally took a break from moping around the house just long enough to clean out the gutters. Unfortunately, I got a late start - so it was over 100 degrees on the roof by the time I got up there.

I knew it was hot, but I practiced mind-over-matter and ignored the scorching heat radiating off the black shingles; the long-term impact of which was: I managed to burn my butt. I mean my right cheek literally looks
like you took a belt sander to it.Seriously - it is raw.

I’ve made everyone who expressed disbelief in the present condition of my terribly singed buttocks take a look for themselves, so you don’t have to take my word for it – drop by anytime.