Shingles, metal, tile—roofing company wear many hats, do they not? Imagine yourself drinking Saturday morning coffee and drip, drip, drip—you find a spot on the ceiling of your living room. Fury. why now? Your roof has been there for millennia, absorbing sunlight, weather-proofing, sometimes serving as home for the odd squirrel. But all the rules are off the instant you see water. You start considering warranties and if you should have given last spring more thought.
Have you ever ascended a roof? It slipperier than a pig kept greasily. Once, my friend Jake attempted fixing his during a “quick shower,” and came out flat on his back, looking at the skies. Safety ropes on roofs have purposes beyond just aesthetics. Forget “DIY makeover”—sometimes it’s really better to hire a professional than wind up with an ambulance trip.
Roofs age more like cheese than wine. For the first five years, that asphalt shingle you selected from the hardware store likes sunshine; eventually, it begins to show its age. Where you least would expect it, moss grows. After each hailstorm, grains flake off. Not to mention leaks; they like the toughest, least accessible place. always.
People chatter about energy savings and curb appeal, but let’s focus on expenses. Changing a roof empties bank accounts faster than a Vegas weekend. Most people find estimates to be difficult. From first hearing it, square feet, pitches, underlayments, ridge caps—just sounds like nonsense. Pro tip: never cut underlayment too much. That is your policy on rainy days.
Neighbors like participating. “Choose metal! Lasts a hundred years, Jerry next door easily forgets about the noise during rain. Though it costs a fair bit, tile looks great. Though termites send their respects, wood shakes have that rustic appeal. Climate modifies the computation. On the snowbelt? More vital than color is more insulation and ice-and- water barriers.
Birds are peculiar. To make nests, crows pilfers free flashing. One summer I saw a blue jay pull on my roof for an hour before triumphantly soaring beak full of who-knows-what. Ever experimented with chasing a raccoon off your shingles at midnight? Sometimes roofing reminds me of wildlife control.
If paint can make a room beautiful, a new roof changes a house. The entire home suddenly seems taller, cleaner, polished like a just pressed shirt. And, to be told, knowing you won’t hear the foreboding drip—at least not for a while—makes one happy.
Word to the wise: watch following storms. A brief scan with binoculars in hand does magic. You may save hundreds from that little crack or missing shingle. Unless you want to play whack-a-mole with weeds and roots, maybe abandon the romantic rooftop garden idea.
One of those things nobody dreams about, but everyone worries over is roofing. When you see those experts climbing a home like superhero sidekicks the next time, nod. That is not a simple gig.