Morning all and welcome to Friday morning. This has been a bit of a strange week. Parts raced by and other parts slowed down to the speed of molasses. Isn’t time a funny thing? Either way, we are on the verge of wrapping it up. So let’s delve into this, the last prompt for the week. Ready? Fabulous, set those timers and let’s stretch our brains one last time before the weekend.
I have no idea where this is actually going. I think I am going to have to write further to actually see where this story is heading off too. Is it family secrets time? Or is he starting a boutique hotel in the family home? Maybe something else entirely. I can’t tell from here. I feel like I ought to set the timer for another fifteen minutes to see where the story wants to go. Maybe I will, after coffee…
Friday, May 26th: After the storm passed, he went to inspect the roof.
After the storm passed, he went to inspect the roof. The first thing he did was to slowly circle the large house, walking the perimeter, eyes trained on the ground. The roof shingles were easy to spot. Although the weather grew cooler in the last few weeks, more so now after the storm, the grass was still more summer green than winter brown. The dark slate roof tiles stood out easily.
He picked up the ones he came across. He inspected them and those that did not shatter with the impact with the ground he put into his little wagon. Those would be returned to the roof, if possible. The shattered ones had uses as well and he piled them in a small heap on the ground to be collected later.
He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or not to see so few broken. The unbroken ones could be reused and that was a plus, but it meant that they didn’t fail because the slate tile cracked. It meant something was wrong with the roof.
It was something he dreaded ever since inheriting this place from his grandfather. He knew the old man tried to keep everything together, but the roof on a hose this size, with all its irregularities was always a hazard. ‘And had been the ruin of many a family home.’
Despite his trepidation, he smiled to himself as he made his way back into the house and climbed up. He went up, up up, the stairs climbing all the way into the attic. He cast an eye around and saw no wet spots in the attic. That had to be a good sigh, right?
He took the ladder and placed it under the trapdoor to the roof access panel. He climbed up and opened the hatch. He stuck his head out and gazed at the sea of tiles. There was only one way.
Luckily, he had experience with this sort of thing and pulled his head back in and climbed back down the ladder. His gear was waiting for him. He attached the safety harness, having no desire to slip and fall three stories to the stones below. He belted on his tool belt and hoisted up the small ladder he would need to take with him to access some of the other wonky sections of roof. And then up the ladder he went again, this time pushing the other ladder ahead of him so it could go through the access panel first. Even with the harness and proper tools, it was a harrowing two hours spent on the still rain slick rood tiles.
There was much relief when he could finally return to the attic, drawing his secondary ladder with him. There were sections of the roof that would need repair fairly quickly. There were others that would wait. In the barn he had the scaffolding needed and he even had a collection of the slate tiles that could be used to replace those on the roof that were cracked yet still held in place. There were still things he needed to purchase, and it would take time. But because of his supplies and skills it would be less expensive than he feared.
As he descended back into the depths of the house, he wondered if it would be better to do the roof piecemeal or just bite the bullet and get it all done now so no one would have to worry about it for the next fifty to a hundred years. He went to the room he was using as his office, prepared to crunch the numbers.
Ten til Midnight 