Tuesday evening, Anne got home first. Our general contractor’s sub-contractor for masonry work was busily working. Their scaffolding blocked the use of the front door, so Anne had to use the backdoor. She took the above picture. She asked the masons to let her know when they were done. An hour later, I get home, notice the repaired brickwork and the completed, cleaned up and empty work site. Admiring the work, I enter through the front door, which succeeded in startling Anne, who was still waiting for the mason’s knock. Two months in the waiting and less than a day in the making and the first step of our multi-step home repair process was completed. Wednesday brought rain again, so the roofer was put off for another day, hopefully on Thursday. After the roofer comes the painter, for the trim and then Nick, the awning guy. So with a little dry weather, we might be complete with our February storm damage repairs.

Before the heavens re-opened and another deluge fell on Wednesday, I was able to get a bike ride in, before work. Without having the benefit of Anne’s skirt to hide behind, I got ravaged by the big dogs in the Park’s predawn bicycling activities. I did manage to get 15 miles in though. I returned home, showered and dressed for work. On the way there, I stopped at Starbucks for my usual Grande (medium) Latté. The Latté Ladies were also in a mood to have some sport with me. The register lady first called out, “Latté for Mark”. This soon morphed into, “Mark for Latté”. All of which was lost on me, because I had my nose buried in my Weapon of Mark’s Distraction, my iPhone. Only later, after I noticed that “Latté” was written on my cup, instead of the usual “Mark”, did I finally put the pieces together. Today, I should plan on paying more attention to my surroundings, but watching and waiting, as the other Starbuck patrons get served is too boring. I’d rather skim the NY Times or just play with my iPhone.

Chris returns to one of his favorite subjects, the Clemont Hotel. In this shot, the morning sun is reflected onto the Clemont, from the windows across the street. These reflections become golden decorations on the face of the hotel.