Oak Tree.

Early Wednesday morning. I've been up an hour already. Several large trucks rumbling and straining back near the old folks' apartments, making work of what's left of the huge oak that came down through the ceiling in 2B last week. I have no idea how the numbers work over there, but via at least one system that apartment would have been 2B. Picture it: you've lived in that apartment 40 years. You're watching 60 Minutes. Then a tree comes through your ceiling.

Didn't look as though anyone would have been hurt, which is impressive enough: the tree was at least 60 feet tall. I've been a little sad about the whole thing. The top third of that tree was part of the skyline view from the back deck here.

We were beautifully cool at seven, but we're warming already. A long day of siding the shed yawns out in front of us here, all part of the palooza that is checking things off the list before Edward James Olmos starts up on the main stage. The drywall's done. There's a deep hole in the earth where apparently next week there'll be a bathroom. Today: cedar siding, hung by hand. Never done it before. Never done a lot of things before. The chainsaw dudes and the stump-grinding dudes and the big truck dudes beeping their way in reverse around what's left of the oak back there sound like they know what they're doing, though, so at least there is some measure of expertise somewhere in the neighborhood.

Our weather came in from the east the last couple of days. It felt and looked like the beach. Today it seems like we might have managed to slow the record down some, get it spinning back the right way. Today the weather looks like our weather, for better or worse.