Dressing Up
My old roof is removed, and the new roof installed. There is still work to be done, but my house is dried in and safe from the elements. A team of seven people showed up yesterday morning and started climbing on my house. Walking with the ease of youth they wielded their power tools, removed old screws, yanked up tin, and laid down a new moisture barrier. As they worked a trailer mounted machine created new roof material from a roll of tin, creasing and slicing with ease.
When all was ready, the new tin was handed up and fastened to the deck. Notches were cut, ends were crimped, and things made tight. In addition to the big house the carport and workroom are getting recovered as well. My house has a new roof skin of smooth metal and clean lines. It looks like a million dollars. It’s surprising how satisfied it makes me feel, and fortunate that I was able to afford it. Good insurance and enough cash to cover the deductible.
I feel like I used to feel when I bought a new suit. A good suit. Tailored. Cut to size. Fitted. Wool. With a silk tie, starched cotton shirt with French cuffs, and shoes shining like mirrors. Silk socks. No one dresses like that these days, except bankers maybe and some executives. Mostly everyone dresses down because they want to look like common men and be comfortable. But I liked dressing up. And that’s the key word. Up. As in higher, and maybe better. A standard. A higher standard. But now only my house is dressed up, and maybe when it’s done, I’ll slip into my suit, pull on a fresh shirt, knot a nice tie, slick back my hair, and have an evening drink to celebrate.