Sometimes You Have to Knock It Down

It's been a year since my sister passed. Over that time, I've been working to change things in my life: I quit teaching and coaching, and I've been moving toward doing more personal writing.

Yet, it's been slower than expected.

Take last month, for instance. If you remember from my last letter, I'd hoped to shingle my cabin shed and finish the current Counios & Gane novel before getting back to work here.

Of course, both are taking longer than expected.

Fixing The Roof

Early last month, I spent some time prepping to replace the shingles. I cut new boards for the rotting edges and worked out a small budget for supplies. Before I left, I felt good about it.

My one mistake: I didn't investigate things more closely.

The next week, I returned and tried to pull the first shingle. It came away with ten more stuck to it—along with a chunk of the rotting roof beneath it. My dad, it turned out, had tarred the shingles down with no felt paper, so nothing wanted to come cleanly.

I went onto the roof to assess things. There were some ants laying eggs under the shingles, but they turned out to be the least of my problems.

Soft spots were everywhere, and I knew it was no longer a simple shingle job. The whole roof had to come off, which meant moving everything out—including all the stuff I'd stored there from my mom and sister.

The Bigger Question

As I emptied it, I started wondering: should I just pull down the shed and get a new one? Given the materials and time required, would it be easier to start fresh?

This wasn't a new thought. I'd considered downsizing the shed for a while—but was this my excuse to do it?

I didn't commit right away. I asked my neighbours Tim and Scott for their thoughts, and they suggested I look inside the walls. If there was water damage in the insulation and wood, that'd be a good reason to pull it down.

So I tore off the panelling. Moisture had gotten into one back corner—but that was the least of it.

Remember those ants on the roof? Turns out they'd nested in one of the studs, chewing through it so badly it crumbled like a light pastry. To fix it, I'd have to pull off the siding and replace the beam. Doing that plus replacing the rotting plywood walls sealed my decision.

Tim and Scott helped me pull it down, and I spent the rest of the day chopping it up to haul it away. By the end of the weekend, I had stripped it down to its floor, and then returned a few days later with a newer, smaller shed to replace it.

What I intended to be a simple shingle job over a weekend turned into a two-week rebuild.

Moving Forward

Although the shed is done, the book isn't—not yet.

I wish finishing the novel was as easy as buying a new shed. Instead, it's slower, messier work. And, like the shed, we tore down the final act to rebuild it (Angie and I talk about it more in the Counios & Gane newsletter).

Until then, I'll keep at it, putting my own writing on hold—I can't give more than one story my full attention. Still, I can't wait to close these chapters of my life and start the new one.

Thanks for reading.
David