The Shed, aka “The Den of Entropy” | entry 3
The roof…
The roof…
The roof…is on fire.
…
Burn [censored]… …burn.
The thought of razing this thing to the ground was never far from my mind in the first few days of this project. Nor was fire. Fire would make things a lot easier. Quick. Clean. Square one again.
But too final. The goal wasn’t hellfire, but redemption. Sure, the shed probably deserved every degree of perdition a bonfire could offer, or at least the six-legged vandals and the four-legged squatters surely did. But after calculating the costs of a new tower…err, shed I mean, and realizing that the best option in front of me was to try and fix this thing up as best I could, fixing it up was the road forward from here. Besides, there’s no coming back from a pile of embers.
Knowing now the sorry state of the walls and foundation I knew that the first thing to target was the source of the rot…a leaky and poorly installed roof. When you’re trying to turn things around, you can’t just slap another layer of shingles on top and call it good. Whoever worked on this thing before me would disagree, maybe not in words, but definitely in their work. We’ve already discussed how the vinyl siding made a poor fig leaf for covering up the shame. Well, the second effort of shingles on the roof had about the same success. Twice the shingles, and twice the leaks. Some try to hide, some try to smooth things over with another best effort. Doesn’t really matter though. Neither deals with the real problem.
And the problem here was water being where water wasn’t supposed to be, or maybe it was the shed that was the trespasser. I’m sure that’s what the rain would say if asked for her side of the story. There’s always two sides to every conflict, and each has its share of the blame.
One obvious thing from that second layer of shingles is that doing more of the same isn’t a winning strategy for conflict. Gonna have to strip this all the way back to the vulnerable bits underneath so I can find out why these two haven’t been getting along all these years. Shingles installed by an amateur, doomed to fail the moment they were tacked into service. And when it became obvious that there was a problem, a second coat of shingles was a way of deflecting attention away from the amateur hand.
It’s sad to see two who are made for each other tearing one another apart. The roof and his rain. But he’s not taking care of her, and she’s not respecting him. The rot that’s ruined many a home, my shed on the verge of being the most recent victim.
The solution is obvious. Flashing. Not a lick of it was put in when the first or second effort were tried. She gave herself generously, sometimes fiercely, but he was unable or unwilling to lead her. Disrespect has a way of seeping into areas of insecurity. Each side has its share of the blame. Neither has the humility to admit it.
The roof is on fire…
Though it would be far easier to watch this thing burn, that isn’t what’s going to happen. Redemption doesn’t work that way. I bought this shed, rot and all, and replacing it with some plastic alternative from the big box store after tearing it down doesn’t send the kind of message I’d like my kids to see or hear. I’d never say it was the right thing to do, but my works would. They’d hear them both.
That’s not how you deal with conflicts. We need water. Don’t let it burn.
Roofing here is about reconciliation. The roof and the rain are meant for each other. Time to admit where the problem is and put things back into the right order. I can’t fix the rain, but I for my part can learn from the mistakes of the past and put things right with the roof. New shingles, new underlayment…and flashing to lead the water to a productive end rather than a destructive one. There’s a reason roofing needs to be done a certain way. The same holds true in all relationships.