How luxurious, I have a roof that doesn't leak. No more little pools of water in strange places inside. The fluid loops and undulating lines of white chalk are all that remains of the damp patches that taunted me from above. My only defence was to make marks round them, in an attempt to determine the source of the leaks.
Getting to the source of the leak problem was a gradual process. I wasn't quite sure how to go about it. I armed myself the best I could, with an offcut of roofing felt and an aluminium ladder. Then the whole thing seemed to carry me along with its own momentum.
The first lucky break was the discovery that the piece of thick plastic sheeting I had found in the new allotment's shed was exactly the right size to fit over the entire roof. So much so that I wonder if that was its original purpose.
I relished climbing the ladder and swinging myself onto the roof with the aid of a helpful branch. Those childhood tree climbing days were very valuable. I took my witch's broom up there and had a good old time cackling and sweeping all the debris from the roofing felt. The sun was shining, so I sat on the roof for a while to drink in the view. The ashfelting was beautifully warm. I looked out across all the allotments, and the fields beyond them. It was a very liberating and peaceful experience. I felt quite like some creature of the woods surveying its territory.
It was time to investigate thoroughly the nature of the leak. I saw that there were quite a few layers of roofing felt along the apex of the roof, some of them quite rotten and loose. I peeled off three layers of differing qualities and states of decay. I was reminded of tv diy programmes, where people peel away one layer of wallpaper after another. Each layer is original and unique in its beauty. In my case all the layers were equally disgusting. One had a coating of wood lice on it.
Three further layers remained, but I could now see the problem - there was a crack through all the layers of ashfelting, so that the inside of the shed was in fact exposed to the elements at the roof apex. I suspect it was due to the psychadelic nature of the shack. It is always ready to party. The slightest wind will set it off, rocking and rolling. Only the length of orange baling twine tied to a bolt on one of its corners, and to a sturdy tree, prevents it from totally collapsing.
My plan is this - seal the crack with tar. The offcut of roofing felt I found in the garage is the ideal size to lay over the apex . I'll stick that down with tar too. It won't last for ever, but will buy me some time. I'll lay the thick plastic over the whole lot and staple gun it down. Then when I have some money I'll buy enough roofing felt to go over the entirity of the roof, leaving the plastic in place. Either that or I'll just buy a new shed.
So at the moment the roof is waterproofed by the plastic, strategically staple gunned and held down by LBC bricks. Excellent, and vaguely reminiscent of Alpine chalets.
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