Eight Roofs

Summer is ahead of us and things start to happen. Why not starting by the roof? Our house was built during the fifties and I bet nobody worried with the roof until now. (Including us.) Handy man George got the job. We could afford a contractor, but we surely couldn’t afford the consequences of the poor quality most of them have to offer.

Basically, this is what George has been doing for our good old roof: 1) Removing the tiles. 2) Checking the state of the wood frame. 3) Cleaning the attic. 4) Covering it with a special fiber blanket. 5) Applying a rain shield coat over it. 6) Cleaning, replacing the tiles and covering them with fresh, reddish clay.

As I’ve never visited my roof, I avidly questioned George about his findings. We were relieved to know that the woods are well and ready for another 50 years. According to Paul, we are talking of the same wood used to build in Ilha de Moçambique, capable to survive not 50 but 500 years of oblivion. George also informed us that we have 8 roofs, each one of different size and covering a specific area of the house.

In my mind a proper attic has to have a treasure of some kind hidden in it. Everyday I checked with George. ‘Today I just found some turtledove’s eggs…’ ‘I discovered a few spare tiles left as a precaution during the construction. Very handy!’ Only when I directly asked if he had found something really special, he answered: ‘They built a beautiful stone wall that is still shinning and has no apparent reason to be there…’ Finally a treasure of some kind.

We also called our plumber for a small job. I am bringing senhor Leonardo into this conversation just because I would like to please someone with a couple of pictures of him.

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