A drippy situation

Confound it . . . for the first time in 45 days, it’s overcast and a line of thunderstorms are running around the area; rain varies from drizzles to spits to short cloudbursts.  All of which means I can’t get on the roof and try to get a collar and seal on the leaking ductwork, dammit.  (For the complete, four-year story of The Roof, now approaching Saga status, read here.)  I’m also not doing any more about repairing the overhang until the rain stops and things dry out a bit, which means midweek at the best.  And to cap the climax, L is home today, having come down with some kind of stomach bug that caused her to barf all over our bedroom and bathroom floors, and I had the joy of cleaning it up at seven-thirty in the morning.  She’s laid out on the sofa with a hundred-degree fever which, considering her compromised immune system, is moderately worrying.  I hope it’s no more than a common virus, but it may not do to wait-and-see.  I’m going to try to convince her to call her doctor in a bit.