Early morning, April 3rd. While my running group friends are getting ready for their usual Tuesday jog, I'm thinking about what I have to move to make way for the roofers who will arrive at 8:00. They will strip off the old shingles and "underlayment" (used to be called "tar paper") using long-handled metal scrapers, and will remove the shingle vents. All the old stuff will land on the patio, surrounding yard, and front porch areas. The agreement says they will sweep the yard with a magnet for any loose nails. I suppose this task also includes picking up the nails and disposing of them...but I get too literal. So, I'll move my vehicle to make way for their truck, reposition a couple of kayaks, and slide patio furniture and planters away from the drop zone. My son's aging '78 Blazer will stay in place...as one would expect of a 5,000 pound piece of immovable driveway sculpture. Well, maybe less than 5,000 pounds these days since it has probably shed a few ounces a week due to corrosion...for the past two years.
The new roofing material has been perched on my roof for about 5 days. Neighbors have said pithy things like, "So, you're getting a new roof," and "Hope you get better workers than the stumblebums we had on our roof." I'm expecting the best. Upgraded shingles, a slight color change, and the satisfaction of knowing that I, and any others who inhabit this place, will be sheltered from the elements for the next 25 years. Guaranteed.
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