Raising the Roof

     It is not uncommon in our family to celebrate Labor Day by doing actual labor.  That was certainly the case this year as we gathered at our daughter's house in Butte to help her and Luke shingle their roof. Reed and I arrived Thursday night, Will and his girlfriend Emily on Friday, and Tracy, Friday evening after work. Friday's project was tearing off the assorted layers of old shingles and was assisted by pastor-shanghaied students  from the mining college.  Although the day was a long, ab workout of shoveling crumbling shingles, there is nothing like real wind to give an outdoor project a second wind, especially when the wind is accompanied by thunder, lightening and RAIN.  There are enough projects to do on that house without adding leaking ceilings, so the roofers were highly motivated to get the protective sheeting on the roofee, especially over the unpatched holes. 
     The holes were taken care of the next morning and the roofing was completed by Sunday afternoon, ahead of schedule.  Enough ahead of schedule to allow time for the weight lifting challenge of replacing the heavy four by eight foot picture window with its newer, much lighter, replacement.  Since I am both naturally and deliberately lacking in construction skills, I removed the roofing detritus, which any moron could do, and cooked, at which I am skilled.  It is always a blessing to be with, and help, our children, but the joy of seeing them helping each other was like winning the Nobel prize for parenting. As I've stated before, we had modest goals when we were raising our children--we wanted to survive them and tried to help them suvive each other.
     The reward for the hard labor of canning is the sound of the tiny pop of the lid.  The reward for the hard work of parenting is the sound of your children working and laughing together as the good friends you always hoped they would become. I don't know how often we will spend Labor Day raising the roof, but I hope to continue the tradition of labors of love.