When the alarmingly tall contractor and his crew put on a new roof this summer, they tore off not one but three old roofs. I don't entirely understand why this is supposed to make it cheaper to heat lemming headquarters, but I accept it as one of the mysteries of life. Doubtless I would understand if I had taken Physics in high school instead of Women's History.
One unforeseen after-effect of now only having one layer of roof is that I can hear the prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof, er, paw of each squirrel who scampers across. I'm not yet so used to the noise that I tune it out, but I at least know what it is.
So, having consumed quite a bit of caffeine, I sat down at the computer, prepared to draw intelligent comparisons between Sarah Palin and Eliza Pickney. (Really. You have no idea how thrilled I am that John McCain chose Palin. Teaching Women's History has just become infinitely more entertaining.)
Hypothetically and in theory, several squirrels could make the noises which began overhead. These would need to be squirrels even more coordinated than the vast liberal socialist conspiracy, which seems unlikely in suburban Indianapolis. The organized squirrels then began throwing large branches off of the new roof... and turned on leaf blowers.
I'm grateful to my neighbors for cleaning off my new roof, but they did give me quite a shock.