down time

The bushes will be happy: it's raining. The mason, on the other hand, kind of has to hang it up. He managed in gusts to 40 mph yesterday, using his truck as a wind block. But today looks like a wash.
The windows have arrived at the lumber yard already—I don't need them for a month—and I'm still fidgeting with the openings. I also just shortened the front porch by a foot, because the mason thought it jutted into the driveway too much. We were both picturing late-night partiers plowing into it. Adusting the idea to the actuality is where the, ahem, cement hits the dirt.
In the really big news, Bro arrives today to take over.
"I've started sleeping," I told him.
"I've stopped," he said.