World Through a Peephole

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I view my world through a peephole. At least for the time-being.

peephole

Here’s the story. Our house is being painted. Two days ago the paint guys showed up and started the prep work. Cracks filled, peeling paint scraped away, bushes, trees, windows and sliding doors covered with plastic. There’s the crux of the thing. That thick, cloudy plastic.

That afternoon, after the guys partially sprayed the first coat on the back of the house, the rains started. Now, here in Central Florida we get the afternoon rains. They come fast and leave just as quickly. But that day the rain stayed and stayed. To the tune of about three inches before it finally stopped some time during the night.

So okay. I expected work to resume the next day. Did it? No, because the rains came again! In the morning, of all things. That just does not happen! Back to my view.

Everything is covered with plastic for the third day. The only way to see outside is through the peephole in the front door. The cats sit by the windows and slider, perplexed looks on their faces as they peer at the cloudy plastic. My grandson hears the garbage truck coming, his favorite thing, and goes to the window hoping to see it. Nope. Nothing is visible. The peephole isn’t for him, though. We open the front door and he catches a fleeting glance of the green and yellow truck turning the corner.

Today more rain is expected. The peephole continues to be my view to the outside world. I guess I’ll have to adjust to this new narrow view. And maybe, just maybe, the sun will come out tomorrow!

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