At this point...

I was hauling stuff downstairs in preparation for the painters who start next week. Up and down the narrow curving stairs for a few hours. Books, tools, furniture, kitchen gadgets, chairs, stained glass, wood... 

My husband, who was outside shaking out drop-cloths, suddenly called for me to come look. I stepped outside to see about ten buzzards gracefully circling the church. My first impulse: I started jumping up and down, waving my arms and shouting, "Oooh, pick me! Pick me!"

Can't be a good sign.