"I think the word is cornice."

"Who cares what you think? You college kids are all the same!"

I didn't correct him anymore. When I agreed to go up a 40-foot ladder to work on dormers and window sash, we found a mutually agreeable circumstance. He taught me to draw the windows with a small brush called a sash tool. (No masking tape!) I enjoyed this more craftsmen’s style of painting plus Eddie wouldn't come up and check on me. Occasionally he'd yell up "Come on, College! Wadda ya doing up there? The Cistern Chapel?" Actually, I was smoking a joint and taking pride in the fact that I always did a better job than the previous painters. Dormers were always a pretty slap-dash affair since no one would see them from the ground. Sitting by a dormer on a fresh fall day with sunny day-glow orange maple boughs was a pretty nice deal, and I often enjoyed the solitude.

"Come on! Wrap it up! There's two more on the west side!"

Eddie had a riggers' license to set up scaffolding but mostly would use two ladders with a plank and ladder jacks. I was glad for that because I didn't like his more complicated setups, such as on uneven ground. He'd tie a rope at the foot of the ladder when I thought the tops needed belaying.

"Whadda you know? Have you got a riggers' license?"

Under my breath, "No, but if I knew where you bought yours I would."

"What?!"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if I could start on a dormer?"

"No. But maybe you'd like the paint that latticework in the garage. That takes a lot of dabbing and don't leave any skippers, Rembrandt!"

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