roof diaries

Today was the big test. The first thaw and rainfall since my roof was fixed (for context read "respite"). I've tried not to think about it for the past six or so weeks; this roof that may or may not be leaking, a drainpipe that may or may not need replacing. I pictured by kitchen and upstairs hallway walls being ripped up to replace the central drainpipe. The mess. The replastering. The cost.

I checked on my upstairs hallway wall and thought for sure I saw a new line of moisture. I checked the kitchen and touched the wall and was convinced that it felt damp.

I called the roofer in a panic. He came within 20 minutes. As he walked in, I told him I wasn't 100% sure that the walls were damp. But they sure felt that way.

Bill, my amazing roofer, came in and looked at the walls. He explained how old plaster behaves, with the lime and its instability. He touched the walls, knocked on them, took a good look. Nope. Everything is fine.

I apologised profusely for making him come out on a day like today, a day of rain and ice and plain messiness. He smiled and said it was fine, that sometimes we think about something so much that it's hard to tell. I felt like an idiot.

I am relieved. I must admit, too, that I am still watching. Not completely satisfied that this is over. Here's the part where I start to build trust. Trust in the work that Bill did. Trust that my house isn't a total wreck. Trust that, in fact, not everything that could go wrong, will.

Maybe we're turning a corner, this little house and me. Maybe I've cared for it enough in our first four months together that I've address all its bobos. Maybe we can just start living in the house now. That would be nice.