Leaking roof saga continued.

Winter is the worst possible time in Maine for your roof to spring a leak … so of course, that’s exactly what’s happened.

Remember when I said I’d cringe every time it rains?

 

 

That’s the sound of me cringing.

It poured the other day… and so did our ceiling.

 

 

So much so I had to add another pan.

Which drove the husband nuts when he came home…. and because he’s a man and had to do something?

 

 

Yeah. He decided to climb up into the attic to see where it was leaking.

Naturally this isn’t as easy as climbing a set of stairs… because no.

Here at Casa River, we like a challenge.

 

 

The den closet, home to an overflow of the husband’s useless crap  treasure.

(Yes, he collects old wooden hangers. Don’t you?)

 

 

Half of one side had to be emptied and strewn all over the room….

 

 

Because the only way to access the crawl space we call an attic is to remove all the shelving and climb up a hole at the top of the closet.

 

 

A design paradigm we curse the builders for quite often.

 

 

It’s a bit of a nightmare getting up there.

 

 

And no, the husband didn’t appreciate me making a Kodak moment out of the experience.

 

 

He wasn’t thrilled that I stuck my head up through the hole to offer advice either.

Men. There’s no pleasing you.

 

 

But look… I found an antenna from the 1970’s!

 

 

Did I mention there’s no actual floor up there? Just a few scattered pieces of particle board that break when you kneel on them.

 

 

So after scuttling around like a crab and lying on his back…

 

 

And pointing his flashlight near the section of the roof of the addition you can’t access from the crawl space, he did find where the water was coming in. Halfway up the peak, and running down the beams…. which we can find absolutely no reason for.

 

 

Doesn’t this look like fun?

 

 

Especially since there’s not a damned thing you can do about it until spring when you can rip off the shingles to find the bad spot.

 

 

Meanwhile I’ll have this lovely and ever expanding wart to look at.

And every time I do?

I hear a cash register.

Ka-ching!