I came home today and the roof had disappeared, replaced by billowing red and blue tarps, attached tentatively to my house by a few ropes.
Even in the modest breeze it feels like a gale is blowing and it sounds like... actually I don't really know how to describe the hollow, ominous noise of dozens of massive tarps flapping and whipping in the wind. When the wind rises and the tarps blow up, I can actually see the skeleton of my house. I feel so vulnerable and unprotected.
With the massive scaffolding surrounding my house like a metal and wood rigging, and the tarps filling like sails, I can imagine the house literally floating away in the next stiff breeze. It's all very Peter Pan.
I just hope that this particular adventure is not one of the 'ever-after' sorts, and we get to keep our feet on the ground.