The Way Out
Today, I get a new roof. Hail damaged my old one. The new one will be metal, as was the old. But a different style. Standing seam. Hidden fasteners. The old tin was screwed down right through the sheets of roofing. I’m glad it’s going. The screws were starting to back out, and the rubber seals were most likely failing. It was going to start leaking, if it hasn’t already. I had no idea when I built the house in 2009 as to the difference between the two. I was too trusting.
That trust also got me a fireplace that was too small. And I wish I had made the door openings large enough to easily accommodate a wheelchair. A friend of mine, much more attuned to details like that, got the right roof and the larger doors. They look nice and they’ve come in handy. But I think that’s all part of building and owning a home. You make your choices. Live with them. And decide what to do better next time. I think my late wife might have thought that a time or two about me. I might have looked better in the show room.
Anyway, it will be nice to have a new roof. I got the exterior painted this year. So, we should be good for at least another fifteen years. It’s odd to think that this might be the last time I have to worry about such things. But I can’t run from my age. I’m 78. I think the odds are stacking up against me. But that’s why I keep moving. I mowed and edged yesterday and got the yard looking nice for the roofers. And when the work’s all done, my home will look spiffy, and I’ll feel good about it, and from there we’ll let the chips fall where they may and I’ll try to keep things looking good on the way out.