At long last the roof was ready for its replacement. The old roof was torn off and shoveled into a dumpster positioned at street level to catch (most) of the debris pitched over the edge.
A roofer’s life is a harsh one. It is physically demanding work that must be done within Nature’s windows of dry days, yet under whatever range of conditions that weather brings on those days. It might be nice a handful of times throughout the year, but for the most part it will be brutally hot in the summer, and bitter cold otherwise.
In my case, the work is on an exposed flat roof, twenty feet up. The edge is open—no guardrails exist, something I found very disconcerting when I was summoned up to discuss some detail of the job. Our society has successfully protected us from accidents at high places and we have come to expect that there will be a fence or guardrail at exposures like this. When there isn’t, we notice; at least I did, keeping a healthy several feet between the edge and my feet.
Flat roofs are covered with a rubber membrane called EPDM, and it is delivered in large heavy rolls that must be unrolled, layed out, cut, and spliced using a special purpose solvent that, were it not outdoors, would require safety ventilation. The chemical smell could be sensed from the street and permeated the house. Another hazard of roofing—brain damage.
The bulk of the work was done in a day, a long day, determined by the point where the house would be adequately protected from a downpour, should it happen. The remaining work of parapet flashing, pipe and vent sealing, and scupper installation could happen later, when the custom sheet metal parts were fabricated and delivered.
A few days later the new roof is now completed. I await the first rainstorm.
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