I awoke at 8:30 a.m. to the unmistakable sound of a ladder being moved from one side of a house to another. I opened my eyes to see a fellow standing on the rungs – he was trying hard not to look at me, sprawled on the bed. But our eyes met. I leapt out of bed, and into the bathroom where my sister was standing. I then ran back into my room, grabbed my clothes, and dressed in the closet.

I’m just not used to this kind of thing. At home, Pete puts up and takes down gutters--always, later in the day.

I’d forgotten what El had said, that the gutter guys were going to be putting new gutters on her house. I grabbed a cup of tea and went outside to watch them. They were young – very professional. They were intent on their work. Looking at them, I wished I was thirty years younger. I mentioned this to Eleanor who said that older women who like younger men are called cougars. Talk about beating someone when they’re down. Huh.

El was very happy with the results because the white gutters offset the new, bright yellow paint job. She’d explained to me that the teal trim made the yellow look brighter. This was a big deal to her, because she herself is a rather subdued person. In her mind, this house was screaming “I am bright yellow.”

El is happier now because the white gutters do diffuse the bright yellow house color.

This all is a reminder that I’m in Portlandic, where the painters and gutter guys take their jobs seriously. I was sorry to see the gutter guys go, but glad to learn that there won’t be a repeat visit tomorrow.

Next: 242. 08/7/12: What Gives?