My GOD, I'm not 23 anymore. Our sunroom roof has been leaking apparently since we first put it on 2 years ago. I listened to a bunch of men tell me that there was enough pitch to put shingles on when I knew good and darn well there wasn't. Being as I'm broke I decided to do the job myself. Wm and I crawled up there Sunday and did the tear-off. I took Tuesday off to put it back on before the weather moves in on Wednesday and let my just give a HUGE thank you to my friends who came over and helped me. I couldn't have done this without her or my two sons.
Let me tell you something. I'm already sore as crap. I was sore Monday so what made me think I could get up there and do the hardest part today without getting sore all over again? Stupidity, that's what. Over confidence in my own abilities. Ego?
My legs are eaten up from moving around on the gritty roofing material. My hands are eaten up. I was COVERED in tar. That stuff is insidious. Once it got on my body I SWEAR it multiplied on its own. The nails stuck to my hands. My hands stuck to the trowel. I couldn't have slide off that roof if my life depended on it because all I would have had to do was put my hands down and I'd would have stuck to the roof. I had it on my ass, legs, hands, arms and somehow on the back of my neck.
But....we did it. We replaced 200 sq ft of rolled roofing. We cut and fit it like pros. The test will come Wednesday and Thursday when it rains. It sure feels good though. It feels good to know that I can still take these projects on. That I can do these things for myself. That I'm still capable. At 48, I might be a little slower but I can still do it.