I gave up on the contractors about 8:50. They rolled up at 9:05 and started tearing the roof off, so they could replace the rotted soffits (which I think would be a great name for a punk band, maybe the house band at the CTC). They are supposed to finish tonight, and tomorrow the gutter crew shows up and does their thing, and we're in theory complete.
Kate's mom is healing, slowly. Since Kate won't be home for her birthday, she's going out for dinner tonight with the priest and her sister and husband, and without Steve Butt-head. There she will open the cards that I sent earlier (I may be a fool, but in 25 years I have not forgotten a birthday or anniversary). A CARE package from See's Candies should be there by now, too. I misunderstood when she would be coming home; instead of Wednesday, it's next Sunday. Drat.
Trying to decide whether to splurge and go out for dinner, or just wipe out the last of the fridge food. Will probably stay in; it sucks eating alone, but it REALLY sucks eating alone in a restaurant on a Saturday night. Maybe I should have chosen a hermit crab persona.