And now for Part Two of the trifecta of chaos that brought this blog to a screeching halt last week. Yep, that’s the living room ceiling of my trailer here in Malibu, where some water leaked during the rains last month. Not just some water, mind you, but gallons of it. And not just leaked. It poured. Gushed, really. Raged through here in a torrent. OK, not a torrent, but enough that the mixing bowl I had left under the drip filled up in an hour. By the time the night was over there were no fewer than five leaks, each dispensing rainwater at different rates, and I had slogged barefoot through the storm in the mud and dark to find the galvanized metal trough we use as a beer cooler for barbeques, because the worst leak was spilling gallons, literally gallons of water into the house. It’s a long story filled with lots of phone calls to the truly crappy contractor who had ‘fixed’ my roof last year, and a single call to one very, very good contractor who interrupted a job to really and truly fix my roof last week. So there’s a happy (no leaks!) and expensive (new roof!) ending.