May has been a very busy month for my men — Sid, Sidney and Lincoln spent 3 weekends roofing houses. They worked with people from our church and community, a few of whom had real roofing experience, thank goodness.
This lovely old home had a complex roof and 3 layers of shingles, 9 layers in some places. This front side view doesn’t look too high off the ground.
The backside, however . . . . . .
is 3 stories high. I really don’t know why Hayes and Lily are smiling when the ground is sooo far below them.
One of my favorite pictures —- one in which my offspring is not standing on a steep roof 3 stories off the ground. No, he is sitting on a steep roof 3 stories off the ground. Sitting is definitely better. Sitting slows the pounding of my heart — a small reprieve until he stands again and kicks my heart into high gear.
The irony here is that our own house is 3 stories off the ground on the backside. A few years ago, Sid crawled up there to install a fan. I documented that episode in this post, Irritably Thankful. I decided at that time that I never wanted Sid on the backside of our roof again, and that I would gladly pay professionals to crawl up there when the need arose.
Then I ended up here, with my 15 yo son on a roof just as dangerous.
And I don’t know how or why it happened. Frankly, it blindsided me.
But I know it had to happen.
So trembling, I let my sons do the work of men — hard, dangerous work — so that they can grow to be strong, capable men.
Lincoln, learning roofing skills from Art and Howard, friends from our church.
Prairie Sings 