Define "Today"

If you've been following, the east side of the church is being painted. There was the whole night of lost sleep when I realized that the new color wasn't really gray and wondered if the congregation would like it.

Turns out, yes. Everybody likes the new color. Even people who don't belong to the church have commented about it. Next to the funeral, it's one of the big topics in town.

The job is almost done. I noticed yesterday that all he needed to do was to paint the threshold of the side door, put the second coat of red paint on that door, and re-attach the wire fencing to the windows.

I know, I know . . . I would prefer not to have that wire cage there, but apparently they had some problems with rocks thrown at the windows once upon a time and put the fencing over them for protection.

But I'm not talking about fencing. I'm talking about defining the word "today."

Yesterday, Friday, my day off, I asked the painter about these last few items. "Oh yeah . . . I'm on my way there shortly and it will be done today."

Today is now Saturday. It hasn't been done.

Are contractors normally this unreliable, or, like Jane said, do Montana contractors live in some alternative time-warped dimension?

I'll have pictures of the finished product up "today."