It’s been busy month here at MacFinn Farm with some preparations for winter. First on the agenda was the garage/sheep shed roof replacement. When I got the sheep in 2010 I had a local fellow build the sheep shed, which was just a carport-sized extension off the garage roof with a confinement pen. It wasn’t perfect (among other things, the gutter always dripped – right onto the sheep eating at the feeder just inside the shed), but it worked. About 18 months ago I noticed some serious water damage to the edges of the plywood, and then, last winter, big dark spots of moldy rot in the middle. It wasn’t actively leaking, but it definitely needed repairing. I called a couple of roofers and got some quotes, both more than I expected or could afford because both recommended reroofing the entire garage (a 20-year comp at the end of its life span), and due to the condition neither would reroof just the shed portion and guarantee their work. Okay.
I picked the one with the better quote (or so I thought) and we got started. When I had the fellow out for the estimate, I’d asked specifically how long it would take. “One day.” He said confidently to my “Really?” I thought this was a little ambitious, but hey, they did this for a living, and even if it took two days, I was on board. So the scheduled day came up. I’d planned a couple days off work so I could be home for the dogs. Though the garage is detached, and across the driveway, it’s still upsetting for them to have people on the property. The first day the “big noise” came: a trailer for dumping the old roofing material, and a pile of roofing material, three vehicles and three guys. Then everyone left except one fellow, who stripped the small side of the roof, put down some tar paper and left around lunchtime. The next day I was assured they would start earlier and get it done. The one fellow arrived a little after 10:00 (so one hour later than the previous day), stripped the old roofing off the shed side, put down tar paper and left around noon.
I think I am cursed when it comes to roofing jobs. At this point the job was put on hold, as we had warnings of a storm of epic proportions bearing down on us – a real “batten down the hatches” storm, remnants of a typhoon that made its way across the Pacific and hitting our coastline. The weather reports were full of dire predictions. Great. I had a tarpaper garage roof and a major storm coming. We had some rain (goodly amounts at times) and some wind but nothing like the predictions, which, frankly, had a lot of us shaking in our boots. I found myself getting a little panicky at work, as I thought, and worried, about the coming storm. Thankfully most of the storm petered out and/or bypassed my area and we were spared “The Worst Storm Since The 1962 Thanksgiving Day Storm!” Whew!
The following Monday I was assured the job would be finished that day. It wasn’t. The next day for sure. I came home to find the inside of my garage had gotten rained on. They were replacing some damaged portions of the plywood – a good thing – but evidently it was during a heavy rain. I got towels out and mopped up the floor as best I could, and cleaning and drying off items that had gotten covered with debris and rainwater. Sigh. Finally, a little over a week after they started, it was done. I am happy to say that despite the timing aggravation, they did a good job. The statement came a week later and I about choked. It was nearly double what I expected. I quickly got out the estimate and looked at it. And realized I misread it. “Option A,” about $1,100 more than just the single estimate, was in addition to the original quote (for doing just half the roof). I read it as a combination of the two–the original quoted amount plus the extra work, inclusive. It was misleading as written, but it was also right there in black and white. Time for a short-term loan. But its secure, looks good, and the gutter no longer drips all over the sheep as they eat.
Later that week I had a plumber come out to fix my yard hydrant, which had been leaking for nearly a year. I was afraid it would break entirely and I’d have an emergency (would have to shut the water supply down, which means I’d have no water in the house). And I was afraid to tackle it myself. I dug the hole around the hydrant to about where it joins the pipe underground but didn’t know what to do beyond that. YouTube videos are helpful, but I didn’t feel confident. I saw a guy on Angie’s List that had lots of good reviews, contacted him and set it up for 2:00 p.m. I stayed home from work that day – I’ve had too many sweaty drives home trying to make it to meet a service worker, and figured I’d work from home as much as I could. So 2:00 came and went. Nothing. I finally called the guy at ~2:40 p.m. “Hello?” Did I call the right number? “Is this ____the plumber?” I asked. “Oh, I should have called.” He said, after I identified myself. “It’s going to be more like 4:00.” At 4:20 he called and said it would be another half hour. Shortly after 5:00 he got here. Thankfully it was an easy job (and I had done most of the digging) and he was able to get it done before darkness descended on us at 6:00. So that’s done, and only cost me $135 more than it would if I’d done it myself (not counting the time lost off work).
Then, about 10 days ago I got in my car to go to work and got to the driveway gate (something didn’t feel right as I went down the drive) to find this.
I decided I would be working from home that day. I put the spare on and that afternoon I drove to the tire store. New tires have been on my list for the past 4 months, and I really was for sure going to get it handled the coming weekend – Keh-li MissBeadle just got tired of waiting on me. I went to Costco – in my tire research of the past couple months they seemed to have the best deal. I missed the $70 off coupon by a week (they had a new one in place, but for a tire that wasn’t as good as what I wanted) but it was still a good price. It was a weekday, so I figured it wouldn’t be like a Saturday crazy-time. I was wrong. I re-upped my Costco membership, which I’d let lapse a couple years prior. The tire department talked to me about the tires, I made the purchase and learned it would be 3 hours before they were done. It was closer to 4 hours by the time I got out of there. I shopped for the first two hours, then waited inside, then waited outside. I think they gave my older car to the slow guy, who, as I watched, seemed to have no sense of urgency as he dawdled through the job.
Finally they were done. A fellow pulled up to where I was waiting and said “Here’re your new tires.” I looked at them. “Really?” It was dusk by then and hard to see them well, but they looked like they’d already been up and down my driveway a dozen times or more. “That’s the film on them from the factory.” Or something. I think it was the Silverback Syndrome again, and the fact that Keh-li MissBeadle is obviously a farm car of a certain age – so why would I care that the tires looked all scuffed and smudged (and used)? Ah well. She drives like a champ now with her new tires – they really feel a LOT better than the old tires, and we can zip around again like we like to.