The Storms Haven’t Destroyed My Garage Roof ... Yet

We all have friends who bought houses way out in the Boonies.  You know the ones—they bought a McMansion on a house farm.  Their home is big, but unremarkable.  The many rooms are not much more than drywall boxes, and some haven’t even been decorated yet because they are essentially unneeded.

These friends sacrificed location for square footage.  When I start to yearn for their great rooms and huge kitchens, I just remind myself that I can be at the Mann in 10 minutes. In good traffic, I can make it across the Ben Franklin Bridge in less than 20.  If you love cities, but don’t quite want to live in one, our location here on the Main Line is just perfect.

Some days I’d actually prefer one of those big, boring chunks of new construction.  After the rainstorms of the last two days, that’s looking pretty good.  Every time I look at the sad state of my detached garage behind the house, I think drywall boxes might not be so bad.

Our house has character.  And charm.  It might be described as cozy.  These are all euphemisms we use for the types of homes here in Lower Merion because they look better in a listing than “old” and “small.”   Ours was built eighty years ago, like many of them here on our street.  It’s a great house, but it always needs something—a little paint here, some plumbing there.  I know I’ll never get to the end of the to-do list, and the re-model wish list is just as long.

The thing that’s bugging me today is that garage roof.  It’s ragged and dilapidated, and needs to be replaced.  I’m still recovering from an injury, so I won’t be in shape to do the job myself anytime soon.  That’s what I’ve been toying with for the last two years—whether I should do it myself or hire someone.  Spending the money would be easier, but there always seems to be something better to do with the cash than replace the roof over what is, in the end, now just a shed.  We haven’t parked a car in there in years and probably never will again.

Rain storms like these bring down little pieces of the asbestos shingles, and make me start investigating roofing companies.  The stucco garage walls are suffering from the roof that isn’t doing a great job anymore.  Things back there look bleak.  But then the sun comes out, and I think about how easy it would be (once my broken arm is healed) to take a long weekend and put the roof on myself.  Then I push it back on the to-do list for another day.

I just hope I don’t wait one storm too long.