{"id":2131,"date":"2018-12-13T23:55:58","date_gmt":"2018-12-14T04:55:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=2131"},"modified":"2018-12-13T23:58:56","modified_gmt":"2018-12-14T04:58:56","slug":"alone-why-did-she-scream-farm-roofing-in-winter-time-dec-122018","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=2131","title":{"rendered":"ALONE: WHY DID SHE SCREAM? FARM ROOFING IN WINTER TIME DEC 12,2018"},"content":{"rendered":"
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ALONE<\/div>\n

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alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Dec.  12,2018<\/div>\n

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\u201cWe are putting a new roof on the farm house.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201c\u201dSome leakage here and there along the line of the old  chimneys\u2026Andy got<\/div>\n
a crew of roofers together\u2026professionals with nail  guns and  metal  cutters.\u201d<\/div>\n
WHo put on the old roof?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cNow there is  a good story.\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWho did  it?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cRay\u2026did it all himself\u2026  handled 8 x 3 foot sheets of corrugated aluminum<\/div>\n
and put each sheet in place with a hammer and pile of lead head nails. And  did<\/div>\n
not slip off to rock gardens below.<\/div>\n
\u201cThree guys up on the roof today\u2026how could Ray do  it alone?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t rightly know\u2026\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cWho is Ray C.?\u201d<\/div>\n
\u201cDied ten years ago\u2026had a farm just above Ospringe\u2026100 acres\u2026pioneer farm <\/div>\n
handed down  from descendent to descendent  I expect until Ray got it.  Ray never married<\/div>\n
and  just sort of slipped  into a  lifestyle few of us would emulate.”<\/div>\n

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The Freeman farmhouse as it was about 1918, one hundred years ago with a cedar shingle roof.  Look at the old  fieldstone foundation\u2026perfect doorways for snakes and mice and other<\/div>\n
creatures seeking to escape the descent of winter on the land.   Louisa and Edward freeman on left 1918 and  centre 1948.   Eric Skeoch  Elsie Freeman Skeoch and the last Freeman family dog <\/div>\n
Scottie.  Sunny days, as  they say.<\/div>\n

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Two Roofers\u2026Ray is on the right in case you did not guess.  Looking at Ray put me in mind the Robert Frost poem about an old man on a winter night.<\/div>\n

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AN OLD MAN\u2019S WINTER NIGHT<\/div>\n
poem  by Robert Frost<\/div>\n

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All out of doors looked darkly in at him<\/span>
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,<\/span>
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.<\/span>
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze<\/span>
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.<\/span>
What kept him from remembering what it was<\/span>
That brought him to that creaking room was age.<\/span>
He stood with barrels round him — at a loss.<\/span>
And having scared the cellar under him<\/span>
In clomping there, he scared it once again<\/span>
In clomping off; — and scared the outer night,<\/span>
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar<\/span>
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,<\/span>
But nothing so like beating on a box.<\/span>
A light he was to no one but himself<\/span>
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,<\/span>
A quiet light, and then not even that.<\/span>
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,<\/span>
So late-arising, to the broken moon<\/span>
As better than the sun in any case<\/span>
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,<\/span>
His icicles along the wall to keep;<\/span>
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt<\/span>
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,<\/span>
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.<\/span>
One aged man — one man — can’t keep a house,<\/span>
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,<\/span>
It’s thus he does it of a winter night. <\/span><\/div>\n

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ALONE<\/div>\n

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alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Dec.  13, 2018<\/div>\n

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This was  Ray Clough.  Below  is what imagination can do.  My version of the Robert Frost<\/div>\n
poem\u2026my old man on a  winter night is Raymond, farmer and roofer.<\/div>\n

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ALONE<\/div>\n

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Icicles on the window frames inside the house this night<\/div>\n
as Ray lumbered in  from the warmth of the cattle barn<\/div>\n
through the woodshed redolent with the smells of<\/div>\n
split pungent cedar and the  candy sweet smell of maple<\/div>\n
no time to tarry for the wind hammered  crystalline <\/div>\n
spikes of sleety snow  against his battered  face.<\/div>\n
So bad was the night that <\/div>\n
The back kitchen door seemed  reticent to let <\/div>\n
Ray enter, acting as if a monitor off who it  would<\/div>\n
accept and  who reject. <\/div>\n
Inside the wood  stove\u2019s beatng heart kept faith<\/div>\n
with those who would expire without the <\/div>\n
glowing embers.  Ray was not entirely alone<\/div>\n
on this winter night for small grey things<\/div>\n
scampered back to their baseboard doorways <\/div>\n
and  larger blacker creatures arrogantly<\/div>\n
paused to see Ray enter.  Did Ray bring <\/div>\n
food to expand  relieve ehat near starvation<\/div>\n
had shrunk.  Ray kept his boots on for the floor<\/div>\n
was cold as fingers of  frost reached  up<\/div>\n
from  the dirt floored cellar as if  alive.<\/div>\n
Ray was  alone, had  been most of his life.<\/div>\n
Loneliness on his farm meant routines clipped<\/div>\n
short\u2026straight lines from here to there made<\/div>\n
 obvious from the tracks from stove <\/div>\n
to easy chair.   A track that stood  in sharp contrast<\/div>\n
to the blackened floor.  The stove was  black<\/div>\n
with the spillage of a decade\u2019s neglect.<\/div>\n
Here and  there were the bones of meals  long<\/div>\n
gone\u2026bones picked clean by the mice and rats<\/div>\n
living in the crawl  space between the bricks and<\/div>\n
plaster in Ray\u2019s uninsulated domain.<\/div>\n
And then  Ray plopped his bony frame  onto <\/div>\n
his eaay greasy overstuffed chair.  And Ray<\/div>\n
sat there alone saying nothing but listening<\/div>\n
to that winter wind as it ground the icy  sleet<\/div>\n
into the once  tight and windproof shell  of his house,<\/div>\n
walls that time and neglect had made porous<\/div>\n
enough for outside creatures to find their way inside.<\/div>\n
Earlier on this cold October night Raymond<\/div>\n
had chosen to flee from Alan\u2019s farm where he, alone,<\/div>\n
had re-roofed  the ancient house.  <\/div>\n
Why did the woman  scream when he knocked<\/div>\n
on the darkened front door?  Was he that frightening<\/div>\n
to others?   Some gourmet party was in progress<\/div>\n
and the smells were sweet yet foreign to Ray whose<\/div>\n
taste in food had  been reduced  to oat meal and fried<\/div>\n
chicken with a dash of  hard liquor.  Marjorie came to<\/div>\n
rescue Ray from the fear he engendered.<\/div>\n
\u201cRay, sorry Alan is  away right now\u2026love your roof,<\/div>\n
Come in and meet the girls.”<\/div>\n
Wordlessly Ray moved  backwards, down the steps<\/div>\n
to the security of his  half ton truck.  He had  cattle to feed<\/div>\n
and wood to chop.  An escape to make.<\/div>\n
Now he sat alone again on his threadbare chair while<\/div>\n
the wood  stove embers and  wild  things in the walls<\/div>\n
warmed his  spirits.  He was  alone on this  cold  night<\/div>\n
with fear in his  heart engendered by the fear of that woman<\/div>\n
who answered Alan\u2019s door with a scream and flight.<\/div>\n
More fear in Ray than in the woman\u2019s scream.<\/div>\n
A tear dribbled down his face a dripped on his old torn  coat<\/div>\n
as it worked its way through his layered clothing to<\/div>\n
the  tartan  shirt and  the tip of his inner once white, now grey winter wear.<\/div>\n
Clothes that were his costume to stave of the cold to come.<\/div>\n
Ray stared  affectionately at he dust clad framed family<\/div>\n
on the kitchen wall beside the calendars  nailed one atop the other.<\/div>\n
His  reminder of grandparents long gone but present still.<\/div>\n
They would  understand his tears and were they here this night<\/div>\n
they would grasp  his  lean shoulders  with a warm embrace<\/div>\n
but that was not to be\u2026never to be\u2026for Ray was alone<\/div>\n
and would remain  so  until his  dying day <\/div>\n
which  he recognized was not that far away.<\/div>\n
\u201cMaybe,\u201d he thought, \u201cI\u2019ll see Alan in the morning<\/div>\n

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And Ray fell asleep in the chair beside the stove<\/div>\n
as he did often on these cold  pre-winter nights.<\/div>\n
His dream was a  wish.  A wish that the woman at the door<\/div>\n
did not scream but Ray also wished he had the nerve<\/div>\n
 to join the<\/div>\n
cluster of females as  they supped on foods fantastic<\/div>\n
and  drank the wine of friendship.  A nice dream.<\/div>\n
A false dream.  A sad dream.<\/div>\n
The tear by then had been absorbed then evaporated<\/div>\n
in his clothing and wafted as  a puff of air through the kitchen.  <\/div>\n
The tear had  risen from his  shirt<\/div>\n
and coursed through the rest of the<\/div>\n
 house in search of something\u2026anything…<\/div>\n
unseen the tear floated  to the bedroom where Ray occasionally slept<\/div>\n
beneath his grandmothers patchwork quilt.  <\/div>\n
The tear eventually cooled and attached  itself<\/div>\n
to the photograph of Ray\u2019s parents hanging above his  bed.<\/div>\n
There was  a time when Ray was not alone.<\/div>\n
But that time was long gone.<\/div>\n
And  soon Ray felt so would he.<\/div>\n
Asleep, asleep\u2026<\/div>\n
Ray\u2019s time worn fedorah slipped from his head silently<\/div>\n
No sound in the house for the embers  were now ash<\/div>\n
And the rat beneath the stove had curled up in comfort<\/div>\n
As had the curled up garter snakes whose long bodies<\/div>\n
slid easily through the chinks in the old  fieldstone foundation <\/div>\n
Also  curled in comfort were two raccoons, one in  each<\/div>\n
abandoned  chimney\u2026asleep until mid January when<\/div>\n
the urge to copulate would assert itself and the empty chimneys<\/div>\n
would again become a family homes.<\/div>\n
Mice scampered across the dirt engraved floor with its<\/div>\n
resistent knots giving a  rolling effect.  Some knots polished<\/div>\n
by Ray\u2019s heavy boots, sometimes  encrusted with manure, but<\/div>\n
most of the floor was  black  \u2026 unswept.<\/div>\n
\u201cNeeds a  woman\u2019s hand\u201d, commented  the odd visitor but<\/div>\n
visitors were few and far between as Ray drifted deeper into loneliness.<\/div>\n
His sleep was deep by now\u2026body  limp in the arms of that soft chair<\/div>\n
now contoured to Ray\u2019s body shape for he slept here often.<\/div>\n

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All things considered, Ray was content.<\/div>\n
He lived  as he liked to live<\/div>\n
Did what he liked to do<\/div>\n
Had  only the cattle to worry about\u2026<\/div>\n

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But he had  been jolted that night.<\/div>\n
Why did that woman scream?<\/div>\n
Scared  Ray.  Worried  him.<\/div>\n

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just one old  man ALONE.<\/div>\n

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alan skeoch<\/div>\n
Dec.  13, 2018<\/div>\n

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The story of Ray Clough was triggered  by the three man crew ripping off Ray\u2019s  roof and putting on a roof less<\/div>\n
prone to leakage.  That was  Dec. 12 and 13, 2018.    Ray\u2019s  roof had lasted nearly 25 years and would last another 25 for sure but little bits of seepage<\/div>\n
would bring wood rot and limit the life of the farm house.   Be nice to see it survive the 21st century.  Outlive me and<\/div>\n
certainly out live Ray for he died just a couple of years  after roofing the house.  His visit to collect his pay, a visit that<\/div>\n
triggered the woman\u2019s scream was talked about by the gourmet women for some time.  He appeared in the dark<\/div>\n
dressed as in his picture.  His clothes  were always the same.  “He was not the marrying kind\u2019, they said not really<\/div>\n
knowing Ray at all.<\/div>\n

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Below are the new roofers.  Three young men from Poland whose English was  limited.   They came armed  with power<\/div>\n
nailing guns and motorized shears to shape the roofing panels.  When Ray did the job he used  a  hammer, lead headed nails<\/div>\n
and tin snipping shears.   And he did  it alone.<\/div>\n

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Marjorie did  not scream that night.  She asked  Ray to come inside but by then he was backing up fast and reaching for the keys to his half ton truck.   The Gourmet club now had a different<\/div>\n
subject of conversation.  Concerned that they had scared poor Ray.  And they had.<\/div>\n

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ALONE alan skeoch Dec.  12,2018 \u201cWe are putting a new roof on the farm house.\u201d \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201c\u201dSome leakage here and there along the line of the old  chimneys\u2026Andy got a crew of roofers together\u2026professionals with nail  guns and  metal  cutters.\u201d WHo put on the old roof?\u201d \u201cNow there is  a good story.\u201d \u201cWho did  it?\u201d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2131","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2131","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2131"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2131\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2131"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2131"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2131"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}