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Sunday, August 21, 2011

Dew on the Roof

The morning dew appeared very eerie in the moonlight. The moisture wrinkled the roofing felt which cast a set of shadows in the long moonbeams. Passing clouds sometimes deprived all light except for the occasionally passing police car.  The roof was naked but only for her loose fitting wet black pajamas.

Soon the roofers would show up to hurriedly put down the shingles hoping to beat the scorching sun. Until then the calm was upon the roof. Running and dripping, the dew collected behind the wrinkles in the home's temporary covering, eventually reaching the edge and mostly falling to the ground.

The black felt had absorbed much of the moisture, weakening and distorting it until it was a menace. But the roofers, in their trucks, drinking their stimulator and hydrating themselves in order to steel  their bodies to the coming torturous day, were thinking only of shaving seconds from their race.

The dawn went crack and the hatchets went pound. The sound of fast footsteps and falling bundles destroyed the silence like a war. Yes, a war against the clock and sun. A battle fought daily by hard men hoping to suffer less than yesterday when the tools and material burned their hand through callouses so thick you might wonder how they can feel anything. Raise the sail and pull the anchor because the enemy approaches soon.

Sadly, despite all the efforts of these brave warriors, the roof will fail sooner than it should because the trapped moisture will blister the roofing and the wrinkles in the paper will give the wind a handle to rip off the face of the roof. They could have sliced the felt to  make it flat but then it is useless the next time wind or hail smashes the roof.

The roofer is but a machine doing whatever he can get away with. The devil sits on his shoulder all day saying "put in three nails instead of four. You'll go faster." He is a patient. He would whisper in my ear at moments of weakness, when the sun beat down on me like I was  in Hell itself. If not for a moral code and a boss who would have drawn and quartered me, this once a teenage roofer would have committed the sin of three nails.

I saw a roofer three nail a mansard. My dog hated that guy and now I know why. I made him go back and put in the forth nail and told him if I found just one missing he would not get paid. Due diligence followed.

Jon Alan Wright
Jon Wright Roofing, Siding, and Windows
1915 Peters Rd., Suite 310
Irving, TX 75061
972.251.1818 Office
214.718.3748 Cell
972.554.8090 Fax
    Follow jwrightroofing on Twitter

1 comment:

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