Can You Say Yarn Diet?

We got a new roof.
When we finally pulled the trigger on it, the whole thing happened much faster than I expected. Hubby signed the contract Friday morning (I was home with a migraine so I got to help choose the color. Oh, honey, I know your head is about to explode and bright lights make you puke, but come out on the porch and help me decide. We selected hunter green to go with the green house.) and by Monday evening our house had a new hat.
Which makes these photos from Saturday evening
We knew it was coming and we were trying to plan for it, like good little homeowners, as opposed to say the recent repairs to the air conditioner. Still, I will have to curb my yarn purchases for a while.
This is not as much of a tragedy as it sounds. Right off the top of my head I can think of yarn I have squirreled away to make three, four six sweaters. At least one of which has half a sleeve. And there is yarn for a bag, some pillows, maybe enough for a pair of pajamas, a number of pairs of socks, and if I get desperate I can always go back to the queen size granny square afghan I started in 1996 and have moved through at least three states. (Although I don't think Hubby or the puppies would allow it on the bed as I choose really terrible 1970s colors for some reason. And the fact we have a king.)
So it's not like I'm going to be deprived.

Baru Says NO!
It will not surprise you to hear that Baru is terribly unhappy about the whole roof business. He was barking at the shingles that were in the backyard Friday night, but in his defense they were next to the hated condenser and for all he knew they were in cahoots.
The workers arrived at 8 a.m. Saturday and got right to work. At the risk of sounding silly because I know they were ripping off my roof, it totally sounded like they were ripping off my roof. The pups were going nuts at first, but then settled down to just growling when they saw someone go up a ladder. Made me glad I was at the store that day.
But when I got home Hubby announced the pups hadn't been out all day. So we put their leashed on them and took them into the front yard.
And they never wear leashes.
And they are never in the front yard except to get in the car.
And it was all very intense, especially considering the generator.
And let me pause here and say everyone is fine.
And Baru dodged the fence into the ravine, gave his leash a massive tug to yank it out of my hand—and disappeared.
We must have tromped around in the undergrowth, along the road, through the neighbors' yards, to the river and back calling him for a least half an hour if not longer. I was fixin' to become hysterical—he still had his leash on, what if he got caught on a branch or some rocks and couldn't get free?—because if anything happened to him it would be my fault.
Happily he did eventually show himself to Hubby (along our normal path to the river) and even then debated coming home. He was covered in mud up to his shoulders. If I wasn't so happy to see him I would have been really mad.
The interesting part was for the rest of the weekend he totally embraced the leash as a security blanket. It was the only way to get him out in the back yard and past the pile of debris.
He took off on Hubby again twice on Monday. At least that time he was in the back yard and just went down the steps. Although, after he did his business, Hubby had to pick him up and carry his 80-lbs butt back up the steps and across the yard to get him back in the house.
I'm not allowed to choose puppies any more.
His ordeal should be over soon. All levels of the roof were completed yesterday. Today they are just going to come back for some final clean up and to install our new gutters (because they had ripped off all the old ones. Can you say free?).
And then Baru's yard will be his again. Now I just have to devise a way to ensure all the nails are gone.