One of the joys of buying a new home (imagine visible sarcasm dripping from this sentence) is the home inspection. A total stranger, with some sort of credentials, goes into the home you want to buy and makes a giant list of everything wrong with it. When the house is over 120 years old, the list is looooooooooong.
Among the biggest red flags we discovered were the state of the roof and chimneys. While from the outside, it looked like architectural shingles that were a bit aged, from inside the attic (Oh! The attic is magical…but that’s a post for another day) you could see that it was being held up by hewn pine trees, complete with bark, and the original 1900 cedar shaker shingles. Not exactly sturdy. And the chimneys, while beautiful and full of character, were basically a disaster waiting to happen. I’ve never been able to poke my finger through brick before. It appeared that the original chimneys were made with brick that was sundried instead of baked in an oven, which means that over time it started to turn to chalk.
We knew those things needed to be fixed right away. We were even more convinced when we had to sign a contract saying that the roof would be completely replaced within 30 days of occupancy in order for us to even get homeowners insurance.
After taking several recommendations, making phone calls, and getting quotes, we decided to hire Beemer KangaRoof (and not just for their clever slogan: “We Hop To It”). These guys were knowledgeable, professional, and just good to work with. After their initial assessment we had to come to the difficult decision that along with replacing the roof, both chimneys needed to come down.
When I tell you I cried ugly tears over losing those chimneys it is an understatement. They were so beautiful. And while one of the fireplaces is a 1970s décor eyesore, the other one is stunning and the fact that we won’t be able to build a wood fire in it absolutely breaks my heart.
We closed on the house mid-morning Friday, September 10th and moved in that afternoon. When you schedule movers to deliver your belongings on a Friday afternoon, they really bust their butts to get it all done by 5pm…even if that means you can’t even enter your living room because the boxes are stacked from floor to ceiling all the way up to the door. That weekend was a blur of just trying to unpack bare necessities and survive.
The roofers arrived bright and early that Monday morning.
Being inside a house, trying to unpack and make it feel even the tiniest bit homey among the boxes, all while having the roof demolished around you is a very surreal experience. For that week, I was trapped. Sometimes literally trapped inside the house because the roofers were working directly over both exits, or because their trucks blocked the driveway and we had to do a whole dance every afternoon when it was time to pick Ellie up from school. But I was mentally trapped too – I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t figure out where to put things as I unpacked them. It took until the following weekend, when the workers took time off, for me to realize how very stressful all that noise was during the week. Constantly hearing things pounding and falling around your house really starts to wear on your nerves. And when they started tearing down the chimneys it sounded like bombs were dropping. It was a very, VERY long first week.
Removing two layers of shingles, a transition roof, and the original cedar shaker shingles took quite a bit of work. Thankfully, we knew that upfront and plans were in place for keeping the inside safe and dry as the project moved forward. Even with all the ridges and angles, the roofers were able to get the new roof on by early the next week and then there was silence – golden silence.
Because the roof project was coupled with some other exterior work, we’re going to save the “after” photos for a later post. Check back soon (or subscribe below to get an email notification) to see how the outside work finished up!
