This last roof repair person was just the nicest man, sympathetic and on the ball and thorough. As I said, he took it all in and quickly: peeling plaster, wheelchairs, walkers, canes, me with an IV in my arm. This was, finally, one smart guy. He saw from the get go this was ugly and he knew it was going to get uglier.
The pictures he took told the story. Under the lovely textured Timberline shingles that I paid extra for all those years ago when I was healthy and working and had nowhere to go but up, were thousands of nails. As it should be. Something has to hold those lovely shingles in place. The problem is apparently the person who installed the roof on the entire front of the house and back of the sunroom had his nail gun on the wrong setting. Not only did that person nail down the shingle, but in each and every case, because his gun was set too high, he blew a partial little hole in the shingle as well. That is right. What I have on the front of my house is not so much a roof as swiss cheese. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of teeny tiny holes, just like a colander. A colander that has let every drop of rain in for the last seven years. And caused three collapsed ceilings.
But smart and sympathetic doesn’t mean free, does it? I got the estimate in the mail yesterday. Three thousand two hundred dollars. Not counting wood. The entire thing needs to be redone, as there is no practicality in caulking thousands of teeny tiny holes. That would be, actually, impossible.
Even though I knew it was going to be bad, this was still a shock. And moot, as I do not have $3200. Or anything close to it.
So here I am:
• I cannot maintain or afford my home any more.
• I must sell it.
• I cannot sell it with a leaky roof and falling down ceilings.
• I do not have the money to repair the roof.
I have had my back against the wall before and I have either figured out a solution or one has presented itself. I have learned that while things may not work out the way you want, they always do have a way of working out. So now I just have to come up with…something.
In the meantime…
When the Going Gets Tough the Tough Get Quilting
In my steroid mania and roof distress, I got it into my head that it was past time I learned how to do a log cabin square. That is the pattern that has log-like strips surrounding a tiny red square, which represents the hearth and fire at the center of a home. I had always been a little intimidated by the idea of all the pieces and it seemed too complicated, but complicated and distracting fit the bill this week, so I dove in.
This is the first one I did and I found it wasn’t that hard. I don’t know what I will do with this piece. Maybe make a little pillow?
Then it became an obsession.
I made this wall hanging as a thank you for Christine putting me up during the storm:
I made this bag with hand dyed leftovers from the quilt I made for my new coming grandbaby:
I decided to make a throw for my own bed, doing a quilt-as-you-go method, quilting each square and then sewing them together. I’ll end up with a pre-quilted top and will just have to add a backing and bind it. I already have a whole row done. It seems too easy, I feel as though there is going to be a pitfall somewhere.
I think I have the log cabin thing down.
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