Stories
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From the back porch the walk led left around where the scaffolding was, to the front of the house past the front door seldom used but in the summer, and seldom even then down to the lake. Sometimes I was dive bombed by a blue jay as the walk led just past their nests in the tall Christmas tree like pines next to the house, where I built the scaffold, and along this walk in nesting season I might find myself flat on my back avoiding certain head-trauma calamity of Jay birding dive bombers.
I was suppose to sweep away the the cob webs under the eves before I painted but often I didn't, since it was lead paint in those days and so thick it covered everything even spiders and you couldn't see them under the sheen.
After the doctor - Mr. Miscellaneous took me to lunch where he knew a lot of people - crowded busy bustling restaurant smelled of food. Around one PM he took me to a second job, and it was around eighty-five degrees about - to insulate an attic and it was one hundred and ten up there.
The fiberglass insulation was in rolls, thick pink one side brown paper, unrolled and stuck up between the roof joists and stapled with a gun. And it was some itchy stuff combined with the heat was hell.
It was around three when Mr Miscellaneous rescued me and drove me to a third job - three houses he was building on the Fox River, and I never saw a Fox in Illinois ever. Of course I never saw an Illinois Indian either. A crew was there about six men roofing, some carpenters some journeymen, or apprentice carpenters; and I was sent up to nail down roofing shingles.
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