And my wish came true.
For months, nay years, I have been trying to find someone who could fix my roof. I have made numerous phonecalls and sent a lot of emails and the result is invariably the same. Silence.
It was Daughter’s Navanman who came up with the brilliant solution. Why don’t I try phoning my insurance company? They have emergency repair facilities so at the very least they would have a list of reputable builders?
I phoned the insurance company and having waded through the usual irritating recorded messages and menu selections I got onto a charming girl who was very helpful. I expected the brush-off but no, she took all my details and said a company would be in touch. A short while later I got a text from a building inspector to say he’d be out the following morning between nine and ten.
I know Irish companies of old, and “between nine and ten” usually means any time after noon. Nevertheless I decided to set my alarm for a quarter past eight to allow time to get dressed and to bring Herself her breakfast tea and toast. I never got that far. At half past eight Yer Man arrived.
We went up on the roof in spite of the rain. He hummed and hawed and took loads of photographs. He seemed to take the job seriously. We both got wet. He said he would send out a roofer and drove off. An hour later I got a phonecall. It was the builder who wanted to know where I lived. He had the post code and was in the general area but his SatNav was giving strange results. I asked where he was so I could give directions, but he said he hadn’t a clue. He was on a lane “somewhere” which was helpful? Anyway he happily sorted his SatNav and arrived at the gate.
We climbed onto the roof. He insisted on using a ladder in spite of the roof being accessible from the house. He hummed and hawed and took a load more photographs. At least the rain had stopped. He seemed to know what he was doing and poked around asking lots of questions like when was the roof built and when was the roof felted [rubbered?] and when was the chimney last plastered. He said it was a big job as the chimney was involved somehow. I cried. He then said he really wanted to replace the entire roof. I passed out. No, I tell a lie. I threw up. I didn’t pass out until he told me roughly how much it would cost. In the region of €30,000 apparently. Fuck! I have a rainy day fund but that’s miles over my limit even though I am apparently eligible for a grant.
I fell off the ladder which was a bit embarrassing.
So the roof isn’t fixed quite yet. It’s near the top of his list and we will talk further about the minimum amount of work necessary.
Maybe I should set up one of those GoFundMe things?