The handyman gjves me a blue plastic tub and a roll of Visqueen. "I'm exceeding my authority by doing this." (He wants me to know he's dipped into his own bank account to buy the supplies.)
"How's Mr. J?" (Mr. J. is my landlord. He's in his 90's and his wife died just before Christmas.)
"He seems okay. He's gotten forgetful and I don't think he cares about his rental properties any more, but he still comes to church."
It's snowing, again.
"Go home before the roads get worse," I say.
"I have to drive my handicapped friends somewhere, tonight." He looks at the roof. "I don't think you need to worry about the roof falling in, but when the ice between the walls melts, it will be a lot of water."
"This has been a memorable winter," he says.