Blood, Sweat, and Metal Roofs

Huge sigh of relief, Chris and I have installed our first (and last, hopefully) metal roof. It took us four 12-14 hour days, but it is finished! And, I can now tell everyone that I helped put on a roof. We are pretty pleased with the outcome and the pleasure of knowing our roof has a 50 year warranty. For some strange reason, I assumed that you just nailed the metal into place, installed some trim and you are done with it; but no. For every piece that is placed on the roof, there are at least 4 steps before you've finished. I am the proud owner of new roofing vocabulary as well...ask me what an eave, a gable, a roof jack, a shear is; I can speak roof talk with the best of them. I am also physically exhausted. I've never worked so hard in my life. Bragging about one's accomplishments is obnoxiously boring, however, since I write this blog I will take certain liberties. Lifting 17 foot long pieces of metal, holding them steady on a slippery roof (I've never enjoyed being on a roof), getting burned to a crisp because it is HOT on top of the house, etc., these are all the experiences I gladly stumbled my way through. For some unfathomable reason I was gung-ho about helping Chris with this project. I decided not every woman can say she put on a roof with her husband (these are much smarter women than me, because I now know why they would not care to say this). It's good that I offered to help with so much gusto, because had I not been very willing to help, I would have given up the first day. Despite all my bravado, until the very end, I would not get within six inches of the end of the roof. I just knew I would tumble over and be paralyzed for the rest of my life. So, come check out our newly red-roofed house, I'll even give some free roofing advice: hire a roofer.