When we last checked in, our plucky heroine had been suctioning water off the roof of her house with a turkey baster...but her efforts were in vain, and she was bettered by the drain.

Let me tell you that in the days following that first episode I spent a lot of time on my roof, actually trying to make it leak again—since the ceiling was already toasted. After combing every inch of the roof and ascertaining that there was absolutely nothing to suggest the water was entering through the membrane, we focused on the drain—quickly pouring buckets of water down it to try to simulate a deluge…and…nothing. We tried pouring buckets of water on the seams around the drain, thinking there must be a weakness somewhere. Not a drop.
We decided to wait for the next significant rainfall…and went through several with the ceiling remaining dry as a bone. So, despite numerous attempts to get the ceiling to show more evidence of water it seemed we’d hit a brick wall…

But of course, you all know we didn’t:

THIS is what we found after I hastily scrawled my last post over a month ago:

Had we continued with a few more buckets down the drain a couple of weeks earlier, we might have found the weakness sooner. The drain was pretty much detached from the pipe. What’s missing in this picture is the plastic bag (?) that was wrapped around the point where the drain attached to the pipe. We also discovered that there was no strapping to attach the pipe to the plywood above—it was just floating in space, waiting to fail.

Since we were in demo mode, we decided to take down all of the ceiling drywall out towards the outside wall, where we knew there was once another roof drain. A roofing company that had worked on this part of the roof a few years back—right after we’d bought the house—had ‘de-commissioned’ the drain, explaining it wasn’t necessary to have two of them.
There are no sufficient expletives to convey what my feelings were towards this particular roofing firm when I stuck my head up into the ceiling with my camera to take a shot of this fine piece of workmanship:

Not only did these *#@%!s steal the drain that was located here, they didn’t even bother to patch the resulting hole with plywood before putting the membrane on top! That we didn’t put our foot through this area while we were up there examining the roof was Fate’s one small consideration in our favour. I did manage to shove my hand into the open end of the pipe to confirm that…yes, they left that open.

The good news is that the problem’s now solved—and we’ve had some very heavy weather over the past month and a half to put us at ease. The downside was that in trying to track down that leak problem prior to the ‘final assault’, we ripped apart some other areas of the house, which created additional projects we’ve been tackling this summer with every spare minute of time and money.

Tomorrow is my annual 25th birthday, and I asked my husband not to buy me a gift this year (like he could afford one, anyway!). Instead, we are pooling our resources and taking our daughter to Niagara Falls for a night at the Great Wolf Lodge. I think we owe it to her, since we’ve frittered away most of the summer on home improvements. We’ve never taken a vacation before, and to tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to getting away from this house—even if it’s for only a day!

technorati tags: houseblog, DIY, renovation

About 4:30 this morning, I awoke with a sudden, raging need to pee.
Still in a sleep-induced haze, I quickly realized that trickling sound wasn’t subsiding.
It’s that time of the month again.

If you’re puzzled as to why I haven’t posted lately, you need only look to the skies and the answer will become perfectly clear…kind of like gentle drops of rain falling from the sky upon your brow…
...your floor

I hate rain. I hate my house. I really hate my roof. And let me just say that the timing is impeccable once again, since I have yet to enjoy a long weekend since I moved into this God-forsaken place. I’ll bet it’ll be real easy to get help over the holidays.

I’ve sunk so much money into this problem over the past month that the urge to just strike a match to this place is almost overwhelming.
But I’m sure the house is far too wet for that to be effective, and my daughter probably shouldn’t see her mommy dancing around a blazing house laughing hysterically until the nice men take her away.

I could say a few choice words right now…but it would just be hopeless. You all know what those words are anyway…

I better go and empty the buckets…and I really need to pee again.

technorati tags: houseblog, DIY, hopeless+renovation+attempts

Leakage, as you might be aware, is a woman’s WORST enemy. Procter & Gamble have built an empire from the manufacture of products that purport to prevent leakage. But Kotex and Always have yet to come out with something that works on ROOFS.

What I need right now is some serious leakage protection…like a Really, Really, Really-Maxi Maxi Pad. Big enough to sop up the entire sky on those ‘heavy days’.

Believe me, PMS has nothing on what I’m feeling now. My roof is leaking. There is a bucket on my poor mother-in-law’s bed (as well as in three other places). I have slit the ceiling in her bedsitting room in several spots with an xacto-blade so the water would run out instead of making huge bubbles in the drywall. My husband is going to kill me when he gets home from work.
Nine years and two days of marriage—will this leak spell the end for us?

Oh, and it gets even better. I’ve been using a turkey baster to suction the water off the roof.

Now, before you spit out your drink laughing hysterically, let me just say that I had to quickly improvise, and son-of-a-gun, it actually seems to work pretty good, because the water is too shallow for a cup to be of any use up there.

And I’m not using just any old turkey baster—this is my special Mackie turkey baster, which I picked up at a NAMM Convention in Anaheim about 10 or so years ago. Mackie is a company that makes mixing boards and other pro audio gear.
Usually, trade show swag is useless. But not today…

The guys who are working on our patio are going to have some good stories when they get home tonight—telling their friends all about the crazy lady on her roof with a turkey baster.
Actually, they were probably feeling a bit of pity for me as I ranted about the yard, screaming repetitive expletives and raving on about how it figures this would happen on a long weekend…
...and how it figures that it would be right when we’ve parted with any extra money we might have had to get it fixed…
... and how it figures it waited until the @#$%^ oak floor was in before unleashing its fury upon me.
One of them said they should take a picture (of me on the roof), and since I haven’t posted any photos of myself here yet, I let him have my camera. Here’s me with my trusty turkey baster:

technorati tags: houseblog, DIY, roofing, leaking+roof, desperate+housewife

Learning that I’m not the only naïve home renovator out there who thought they’d save money by purchasing cedar shingles and staining the suckers themselves—instead of opting for the more expensive, ‘factory-finished’ ones—comes as a great relief. I see I’m in good company (no offense intended, M&C).

Reading M&C’s post made me laugh because I’ve been there. Actually, I’m still there—with only a gazillion shingles left to stain.

Like my houseblogger comrades, I figured I could purchase better quality shingles and stain them myself with the same brand used for the pre-finished shingles. Well, two summers and several snapped clothes lines later, it seems my calculations were a bit off. Or at least I was when I hatched this plan.

What you see in the photo (taken last year, I might add) is just a tinted primer coat—applied with a brush on all sides, as the consistency of this solid stain makes for truly wasteful dipping. We’re using Cabot Solid Color stain, which is a premium product used by many wood siding manufacturers like Maibec, and there’s no way I’ll be letting so much as a drop hit the ground. The colour I’ve chosen is Spanish Moss, which is quite dark and will require two coats for coverage (after the primer).

I’m on intimate terms with my shingles now, having spent so much quality time with them, but we’re having serious relationship problems.

My shingles are kind of like that boyfriend who moved into your place without you actually realizing what was happening—until it suddenly dawned on you that every time you turned around, you were tripping over a smelly sports equipment bag or tacky piece of rock memorabilia…or meeting the bottom of your toilet bowl quite unexpectedly in the middle of the night.
But now you were in too deep—he was firmly rooted in your place, and not going anywhere anytime soon.

Just like the boxes of shingles in my garage are not going anywhere soon…until I get motivated to complete what has been the most mind-numbingly dull job I’ve tackled recently.

It’s like, how much more boring could this be?
And the answer is none. None more boring.

technorati tags: houseblog, home+renovation, house+exterior, spinal+tap