A soaker, that’s what the weather forecasters all agreed was coming today, at 11:00 a.m. Amazingly they were really accurate, with the first drops showing up on my bedroom window at 10:45 a.m. I thought that might deter the work on the roof on the house across the street, but it has not. The four men on the roof arrived at about half past eight and have been laying shingles and pounding and stapling with gusto since then. One took the time to don a pair of neon colored water proof pants over his jeans but the others have not bothered with any such precautions. I thought it a bit odd to schedule a new roof to be put on in early December instead of summer or late fall, but I’m guessing they didn’t realize they needed one until they saw circles on their ceiling somewhere indicating water leaking into the house.
As the rain began I sent a quick prayer up for the safety of the men on that roof, that they might each come down by way of the ladder, not otherwise. About seven years ago around Thanksgiving time my friend Dorothy’s husband decided he needed to attend to something up on their roof and up he went. It was raining and somehow he missed his footing and came tumbling off the roof onto the sidewalk. Sometimes miracles do happen. Mike not only survived, but did no permanent damage. He hobbled around for a few months using a walker, which was an inconvenience to them as they are avid theatre and show attendees so he required an end seat where no one else would bump into or trip on his device. To look at Mike today one would never guess what a close call he had. In my own family we had an uncle who died when he fell off of scaffolding while painting a house, so not all are as fortunate as my friend’s husband.
The rain continues and so do the workers on the roof. They worked until it was really dark yesterday and later this week the arctic blast is expected to bring our coldest temperatures yet this season and lake-effect snow to accumulate, so I hope the work will be complete by then.