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It rained heavily the other night, which means I woke up to this.

Again.

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My husband puts a paper towel in the bowl because he can’t stand to hear the dripping. This from the man who has the audio level of the television at 31.

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No matter how many times he fixes, replaces sections of, tars or flashes the roof?

This.

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It’s enough to make me scream because it doesn’t happen every time. We can have a rip roarer of a downpour and it will be fine. Then a normal shower will cause a breakthrough.

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So I bleached and patched the ceiling, again. Cursing under my breath the entire time.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten?

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Didn’t seem overly concerned.

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