
20 Jan. 2025




My mother died Saturday, 21 November, killed by COVID-19.
One of 255,000 Americans who did not have to die.
And counting. Still. Counting.
Aided and abetted by mass murderer Donald J. Trump, loser, and his accomplices — all of them dishonest, all of them irresponsible, all of them pathetic, all of them contemptible, all of them cowards, all of them traitors to the oath of office they take to preserve, protect and defend. Lock them up, every damnable one of them. Then go to hell.
Myra Leon, age 90; daughter of Jack and Rebecca; wife to and predeceased by Jerome; mother of Steven, David and Robert; mother in law to Jacquela, Ellen and Karen; grandmother to Justin, Amy, Adam, Stacy, Harley, Brody, Jadin; great-grandmother to Emma and Sofie; shepherd to Dynamite and Muffie; columnist at the Journal News; knitter, mahjong player, guide to field trips to the museum, passionate listener to Saturday matinee broadcasts of opera.
She loved well. She was well loved. She lived well. She lived long. She died early.
Pacem.

One day, start to finish, 730 am to 5 pm, arrival of crew to departure. Originally budgeted at up to three days, depending on weather. They cleaned the site with a magnet to collect errant nails and staples.





Back during the remodel, the roof was the ONE thing we did not have to rip off and replace, just repair in limited places. We were instructed to check it after about five years. Time’s up.
Metlife opted to cover most of the replacement, because hail. Thank you, Metlife.




The crew from Texas Traditions arrived about 730 am. The materials arrived about 830 am. By 10 am, most of the existing roof was torn away; Estimated life expectancy 20+ years consumed. New synthetic underlayment applied over the old black felt, because the felt was still good enough to provide a second layer of protection from water. And it sounds like elephants are playing soccer up there while Jadin is taking online classes and Steven attempts a video conference call.








it’s been a while. We’ve been busy. Living in the house. Working around the house. Tackling projects. Graduating from high school. Sending Jadin off to NYU to study screen writing. Bringing her home, because pandemic. Walking Adobe. Taking out the garbage. Building raised beds in the back yard for Jacquela to grow veggies. The usual …
The plumbers that installed the pot filler at the kitchen cooktop did not make it level and plumb — and it wiggled, just a little bit.
As part of the punch list, Odell and Jacinto from Ranserve chisled five bricks from the exterior wall on the outside of the house directly opposite where the pot filler is mounted to the studs inside the wall. In other words, we are working from the outside of the house, to the inside. Why? We don’t want to have to take down the red glass tile backsplash that the pot filler is mounted to inside the kitchen. And, additionally, we need to get to the mounting structure inside the wall; the shortest route is to chisel from the outside in.
This became a two-day project — just to fix an oversight by the plumbers — with another day pending.
Photo essay:

It took several hours to carefully dissect our way into the house. Photo above reveals two network cables that run down the exterior wall into a conduit that travels under the concrete slab of the kitchen floor, then out to the island, where we can plug various devices into the network inside the house. At right, Odell, Steve and Jacinto — after much discussion — opted to cut away a chunk of stud to yield up access to the copper fitting that screws three times into whatever it is mounted to. And we had to do this without breaking any of the glass tiles on the other side of the drywall visible at the back of the photo. At right, is an older, darker, intact stud original to the house. Further right is a brighter stud — newer wood — and the edge of the OSB sheathing that Ranserve installed against the new stud and several others behind brick that we did not remove.

With the pipe angle bolted and the pot filler leveled, Odell and Jacinto cut down a piece of 3/4-inch plywood, screwed that tight to the intact darker stud to the right of the sliced stud, and then drilled three screws into the wood against which the pipe angle is mounted, pulling that short piece of wood into a position where the pot filler inside the kitchen is level, plumb and secure, with minimal wiggles.












And it’s 48 years since this took place:
