survivor: roofing edition
What happens when you stick a wimpy realist and a tough optimist on a black roof together for a day in 87 degree heat? Will they both make it down alive?
I took the day off Tuesday to help Greg with our roofing project. Although, since there wasn't much I could do until the heat of the day (because we needed the hot sun to dry the glue for the EDPM covering) I did some work inside, took Kate to get some more teeth pulled, picked up additional supplies, and drove the kids around until 2:30, at which point I climbed the ladder of despair. I am not what you'd call "extreme-weather hearty," so as I worked I kept drinking Gatorade, running into the kitchen to stick my wrists under cold water, and stood in the shaded area of the roof during downtime. Let me just say this: if I had to provide a living for my children by roofing, we'd be dead in a week. No...you're right, I'm exaggerating. Two days.
So anyhow, between my wrist coolings and death visions, Greg worked steadily until it was past dark (we finished with a flashlight.) We were working with some heavy fumes (gasoline to clean the rubber so we could do rubber to rubber adhesive, and the glue to adhere the EDPM to the insulation) so we had masks on most of the time. Because of this, there was very little small talk, as we'd inevitably have to yell, "What?" and Greg would stop working and I couldn't have that slowing us down. I think the whole day we muttered a total of the following lines to each other:
Me: It's so hot!
Greg: Yes, it gets hot up here.
Me: Would you ever just forget re-doing the carport?
Greg: No. I have all the supplies and it needs it.
Me: I think I have heat stroke. I'm going to get a cold drink.
Greg: Ok
Repeat 2-3 times
Me: Can I help with anything right now?
Greg: Yeah, can you go get the metal saw, the DeWalt drill, and three metal flashings from the garage?
I rummaged around the garage for the next ten minutes, as I don't know what flashings are, or what a metal saw looks like.
Me: Should I make supper?
Greg: We've gotta get this done before the sun goes down.
I ate a Klondyke bar and made Greg a sandwich.
Me: That wrinkle [in the roofing] isn't too bad.
Greg: I'm getting sloppy! Why do I keep making stupid mistakes?!
Me: You're not a professional roofer, you've just gotta learn to cut your losses.
Greg: I've been cutting losses all day,
Me: It's fine, no one will see it.
Our longest, deepest conversation
Me: I've never fainted, so I'd be pretty peeved if the first time I fainted it was while I was up on a roof.
Greg didn't respond, but I think I said this in my head.
Me: Do you feel like your skin is sizzling?
Greg: Sometimes.
Me: I think the soles of my shoes are melting off (literally, they started melting off.)
Greg: That's crazy!
Me: Should we just tarp the chimney and finish that part later?
Greg: No, I think we can get it done.
Greg: Why can't anything be easy?
Me: Everything is going to seem easy after this!
Greg: Yeah, the other parts of the roof are flat and straight.
I cleaned up our supplies in the last light, folded up the tarp as best I could, and turned on the outside lights.
Me: Should we just tarp the chimney and finish that part later?
Greg: Sure.
We got SO close to finishing the main section, but it was too dark to drill the metal flashings around the chimney, so we tarped just that section. Greg tried to give me a high five as we walked off the roof in the moonlight, but I was too tired to raise my arm.
I have a brand new appreciation for physical laborers. I mean, I've put in a couple 5 hour days but Greg has been putting in 14 hour days, and I don't know if you noticed, but I complained a lot more than he did. Even when he said it was so hot up there he questioned weather the bacon he smelled was him or coming from the kitchen (thankfully it was coming from the kitchen). I'd rather deliver ten babies than go through that--mostly because you can't have an epidural to roof, as it would be counter-productive. At any rate, when, in a year, it's all said and done, it'll all be worth it. And, I'll always be able to look up at our roof with great pride and say, "Holy crap, that was hard!"