The Compound doesn't have a tower, sadly, but it does have several roofs, and with roofs comes, ahem, responsibility. You have to keep them in order, or else an historic Texan house becomes an historic Texan ruin. To prevent that, I climbed up on the roof.
Trees needed cutting back, gutters had to be cleaned, and a malfeasant air conditioning exhaust somehow fixed. The evil beast was leaking water all over the roof and that had to be stopped before it caused catastrophic damage.
Fortunately, it was a simple blockage and easily cleared, thanks to a couple of holes cleverly cut into the PVC for just that purpose. Well done, far-sighted HVAC tech of yesteryear.
Plumbing job over, I surveyed what's fast becoming a sort of double canopy (?) forest of Pecan, Crepe Myrtle and more besides. This is good, it provides shade, and that's no small thing when our Old Enemy the Weather does its level best to imitate a blast furnace.
Sylvan reverie over, I cut into the invading jungle with a vengeance, clearing the green invader from the very roof it was threatening to destroy. Take that.
Next step? Clean out the gutters. This is a nasty job, especially when you haven't bothered to do it in over a year. And you should, because if you don't, the backed up gutters will send water up under the roof, into the fascia, onto the soffit, and before you know it the whole leading edge of the thing is rotted out. And that's a nightmare.
Even more of a nightmare than the job itself, which got done, mostly. And that, punters, is the story of that. It was good to get up on the top of the world and survey the wonder of sylvan Texas.
Good, too, to get some preventative maintenance done. It beat, let me tell you, reading about the ongoing, wicked clownshow that is the governance of what used to be Christendom.
I file this, vaguely, under country life in Texas and more specifically, under "roof."
Do good every day,
LSP
