We had our house re-shingled a few weeks ago.
It had to be done. Bits
had been blowing off the roof for the past four months, so much so that it looked
like dirt dusting the snow, and it sounded like the house was being pelted with
hail whenever the wind blew.
This escapade turned out to be one of those dealios where
you expect to wait months after requesting a construction job, but the company
starts working the following day because that’s the way the stars aligned.
Day One: I was surprised that we weren’t grabbing
buckets every time it rained, because they uncovered two man-eating holes in
the plywood substrate.
Their vehicles lined the driveway and parked down the road. I
couldn’t have gotten my own car out of the garage if tried; the truck stayed over
at the farm, just in case we needed a sanity break.
Activity was non-stop. Not even the maximum volume of the
television could drown out the noise. At
home office? Not an advantage to
business ownership this time.
Day Two: There was so much thumping going on that bits
of plaster shook loose from ceiling in the bathroom downstairs, and roofing
material peppered the bathtub under the southernmost skylight, upstairs.
However, at the end of each day, the work site was
impeccably clean. It was like having one
of those impossible reality-show renovation crews on site. That was a definite plus.
Day Three: I was happy to pay the price I was quoted
for the quality and speed of service I received. They were here and done in 48 hours.
However, that expense had been anticipated in the second quarter
of the year - not the first - and that means money will continue to be tight
until farmer’s market starts again (mid-May) and cashy outgo starts heading
back towards being able to afford “the good socks”.*
Day Four: We found out the crown of my baby sour
cherry tree had been accidentally broken while the crew was here – the wee
thing Dan bought from Plum Hill Farm – the one we had argued about all last
summer over whose job it was to keep it alive watered.
This episode didn’t go exactly according to plan, but at
least it is finished!
*(If you aren’t familiar with the Farmer Definition of “good
socks”, allow me enlighten you. Good
work socks last a long time, until the heels or toes wear out. Bad socks take 1-3 washings, and either
shrink to infant sizes or the elastic cuffs rip off when you try to put them
on. If still unclear, ask
my husband Dan – he’s an authority.)
