It was really kind of silly but is fun at the same time. How we somehow have made it out off some of the most odd & frightening places unscathed. But I meant to say that to impress the devil out of me. Out of that need to release the energy that can or may prove to be useless anyway. But there is this thing about eaves dropping. Is that a metaphor, simile, a figure of speech, an irony of some sort? But how is it that we have to keep eavesdropping? I know how I understand the word "Eaves". We do somehow refer to it as that thing that borders the roofs of our houses, the roofing, the rooftop of our shelters, abodes, dwellings, or for some overthinking folks, the head of our houses. That roof entity that may somehow have to be featured on Roof Framing Plans, details drawn from some Drafter, Draughter, or a Draftsman. For some definite purpose, the finite purpose of structuring, making, creating something out of something. Somehow they always looked the same as those cornices you see around ceiling corners. They could either be convex or concave, sloped, angled, or just plain straight. Cyma Recta, Cyma Reversa whatever. Gutters, flashing, gutters flashing. And it could be done out of timber, steel, or concrete. It could be waterproofed to last , painted, or shaped oddly to your own preferences. Water canals that catch rainwater, enabling it to flow to smoother regions, down the steel or PVC spouts, catch basins, and down into the sewer canals. The cycle of dropping eaves.
