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It. Fucken. Wimdy.

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Phil walks you through how to measure for your foam and install the ridge cap for a metal roof. ⏱️⏱️Chapters⏱️⏱️00:00 Intro00:12 Need to measure for the ridge cap and foam00:50 Make a mark from the peak and pop a line01:05 Put your foam on the chalk line02:38 The ridge cap02:50 How you want to lap over the ridge cap03:30 You want to screw down both ends first03:50 That way you keep everything…

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Prompt:

Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11

I got such wonderful prompts right before Christmas, and I was halfway through several of them when my kiddo ended up in the ER with the flu, and then my family and I all succumbed one by one. We’re finally at full strength, and I hope to fill each prompt you all sent at some point. Hopefully this festive one isn’t too late to enjoy.

Scully looked up at the constellations rising up above the line of the house’s roof, Orion standing just along the edge of the ridge cap, shooting his arrow into the onyx horizon. The Anishinaabe called him ‘The Wintermaker,’ and on this, the solstice, the longest night of the year, she could feel the chill he brought with him. She shivered, and pulled up the neck of her coat.

“Sorry,” Mulder apologized from below the lintel. “The lock’s pretty sticky. Hasn’t been opened in a while.”

“Wasn’t the caretaker supposed to get here before us and turn on the heat?”

“The ‘caretaker,’” Mulder said on a grunt as he pushed his shoulder into the now unlocked, water-swollen door, “is an eighteen year old kid still in high school. I think we’re lucky the place is even still standing.”

The darkened maw of the summer home stood open before them, and Scully, having only been into the house twenty years before with the whole of the Kingstown police department at her back, took a hesitant step inside.

“This is a summer town, Mulder,” she said, looking around dubiously as Mulder felt around the wall for the light switch. “Don’t they have a service you can employ?”

“‘Summer’ being the operative word,” he replied on a click, flooding the room with light. “In the dead of winter, the Quonochontaug labor pool isn’t exactly flush with candidates. I think we’ll be lucky if the trash bin isn’t full of empty Stoli bottles and dead soldiers.”

Scully made a face of distaste.

“Ah,” he said, blinking into the sudden brightness. “Actually looks pretty good in here. And I think the heat is on. Maybe I should give Logan a raise.”

Mood brightened, Mulder’s eyes rove around the room, all knotty pine paneling and 70’s decor. He reached out and ran a hand down her arm, smiling.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” he said, leading her over to an avocado green davenport. “Put up your feet. I’ll bring in the bags.”

“I’m pregnant, Mulder,” she said, rubbing a hand over the swell of her stomach. “Not incapacitated.”

He gave her a sheepish grin.

“Still,” he said, and she capitulated. It’s not like they had all that much luggage. She wasn’t comfortable flying in the third trimester, and so she eschewed her usual trip to San Diego to do Christmas with what remained of the Scully clan. Mulder had suggested spending the holiday at the house in Rhode Island and here they were, alone for a week in the dead of winter in a summer house.

“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.

One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”

She imagined Mulder just before twenty, lifeguarding on the local beach by day. He’d have ropey muscles, suntanned skin—all the energy of youth, the metabolism of a racehorse. She preferred the thicker, more mature version before her, though his hairline was thinning and his knees ached at night; the version of him who lit candles for her in a church.

In the linen closet, they found flaxen pouches filled with brittle lavender tucked amongst the sheets, and they made the queen-sized bed in the back bedroom, the eiderdown quilt puffing up nicely with a few vigorous shakes.

Once settled—pajamas donned, teeth brushed, Scully found she didn’t have to move far in the bed to settle into Mulder’s side, the round of her stomach resting on his belly, her leg thrown over his. She’d barely be able to roll over without falling off, and she was pretty certain Mulder’s feet were hanging about four inches off the end.

“Your parents fit in this bed?” she asked him dubiously. “Both of them?”

He pet her hair, pressed a kiss into it. “It was a different time.”

Scully thought back to those sepia toned days and pictured the Mulder family summering here; the sliding door open to the Sound, the Eagles on the radio, cigarettes hanging out of everyone’s mouth. She saw Samantha on the beach in pigtails, Mulder reading a pulp novel in an Adirondack. There would have been Tupperware jugs of lemonade on the picnic table outside, the commodore of the yacht club dropping by for a gin and tonic.

She sighed. It was indeed a different time. Nowadays, puddles didn’t freeze in December and Fox was the only Mulder left.

She rubbed her stomach gently. Maybe not the last.

He shifted his arm until it was more comfortably under her neck and sighed into the crown of her head.

“I thought we could go get you a Christmas tree tomorrow,” he said. “There’s a farm nearby where you can cut your own.”

The idea sounded eye-wateringly quaint.

“We don’t have ornaments,” she pointed out, picturing a plain green tree taking up a corner of the small living room. She wasn’t really fighting the concept, merely tempering his expectations.

“We can get lights at the drugstore. We’ll make popcorn strings or something,” he mumbled. “I’m sure there’s some fishing line in the garage.”

The corner of the living room took on a cheerful air in Scully’s imagination, a small tree with bright white lights, a jaunty fire popping under the mantle. The smell of fresh pine would do wonders for the stale air.

“Sounds nice,” she smiled.

Mulder gave her a happy squeeze.

“I’ll get up early and pick up groceries,” he said with rising enthusiasm. “Hot cocoa and eggnog. Maybe some sparkling grape juice for you and the little one for New Years?”

It was sweet how hard he was trying.

“We may need something other than beverages,” she said pragmatically.

“Pancake mix,” he went on, his exuberance not waning in the least. “Or oh, how about those cinnamon rolls in a can?”

“Perfect,” she said, chuckling. Her eyes were getting scratchy with fatigue.

Mulder sighed happily, squeezed her again, probably assembling a grocery list in his head.

Silence settled over them and Scully could hear the surf crashing into the shore, the wind buffeting the eaves. The sounds were cold, but her thoughts were warm, and as her body drifted toward sleep, she pictured Mulder holding up a small child to put a listing star on the top of a tree, Mulder walking a toddler through the dune grasses, pudgy fingers gently clasped in the bowls of his hands. She imagined filling this old house with happier memories than it had seen in years.

“Hey Mulder,” she said, her voice slurry with lassitude.

“Mm?” he hummed.

“Get real champagne for New Years,” she said, wanting to toast this second chance. “We can handle half a glass.”

The half roof is on. I still need to install the ridge caps.

"i know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it" + eddie munson 🫣

i hope u know that this is going to hurt us all (also once again soz for the lack of caps locks my key is still jammed lmaoooo)

eddie hadn't meant to become quiet.

it had happened gradually - it was hard to notice in the start. so much so that you convinced yourself you were crazy; that he wasn't laughing less at your shitty jokes; that he wasn't dropping your hand rather than holding it; that he wasn't rolling over at night instead of holding you. it was all in your head. eddie wouldn't drift away from you. not your eddie; the one who had promised himself to you, the one who had promised to love you forever.

it hit you one morning like a truck.

you were laying beside eddie in bed, the golden light of daybreak casting a glow over him. the bright gleam pulled out the random blonde strands in his hair, high-lighting the ridges and outlines of his various random scars and shoddily done tattoos. he was beautiful. he was yours.

at least he had been at one point.

"eds," you gently murmured. reaching out a hand, you brushed a few strands away from his face. "eddie."

he let out a grumble and peeled open a dark eye, golden flecks barely caught by the light of the sun. "it's early."

"it's 10am."

"let me sleep-"

"- eddie!" you insisted again. "wake up."

"it's a saturday, babe," he shoved his head back into the pillow.

you glanced up at the roof, remembering how saturdays had been just a few months ago. tangled limbs and quiet giggles, shoving and pushing each other off the mattress into one of you fell and dragged the other out with you; shitty pancakes and even worse coffee, all tied together by an afternoon on the couch. look at things now. you could barely get a word out of him.

"you don't love me anymore, do you?"

the words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them; hell, they'd escaped into the air before you'd even had the thought. you just couldn't hold it in anymore. you might have broken if you did.

eddie froze beside you, wide awake now. he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you, hair messy and brows furrowed with concern. it was a little for this - too early. too early for his chest to hurt and for his heart to ache.

"because i wouldn't wake up for you?"

"no, you...dumbass," you let out an exasperated sigh and rolled off the bed. it was then that he noticed you were wearing his shirt. "i don't mean this morning. i mean the last month, maybe even two - i just...you don't appreciate me, eddie."

"i do!" he sat up further, brows flaring with anger at your accusations. he paused when your face contorted with hurt - eddie held out his hands, trying to simmer the tension. "okay, i'm sorry for snapping - that wasn't fair of me. i just want to know where this is coming from-"

"- you don't hold my hand anymore," you began. "you don't talk to me like you used to. you sleep ten fucking feet away from me every night and making plans with you is impossible-"

"- hey, come here."

eddie got up on his knees; he reached out to you, large hands taking your face. he softly pulled you closer, forcing you to look him in the eye. they were big and dark; vortexes of confusion and sadness and something that you couldn't quite read. he looked hurt. truly and properly hurt.

you stayed like that for a moment, brow furrowed and lips pouting.

"i fucked up, 'kay?" he said after a minute. "the last few weeks has just been a lot with school, and hellfire, and the band and...maybe i let my priorities slip a little."

"right."

"it's not an excuse but it's an explanation...i think," eddie continued. "i do love you. and i appreciate you so, so much."

you gave him a little smile. "i love you too."

"and i'm sorry for ever making you question that," he said. "i'm going to do better."

roofin

so this week has been a bit hectic, and i worked the farmer’s market yesterday and still feel like if anyone wants to write an accurate farmer’s market a/u of anything they should hit me up. (hint: there should be more politics and somebody should be a little bit mad with power)

but anyway today was The Big Day for the Roof Going On and it went really well. Firstly the weather was glorious; low 40s (F) to start and then it warmed right up to the mid 60s, clear and sunny, blue skies, very aesthetic fall color on all the leaves. I got my real camera out, it was so pretty. No wind, unlike yesterday. No threat of rain. I have exhausted all my karma points; that was all i could have asked for. It was really just perfect weather.

Cut for pics & too much detail, of course.

We got a crew of five-- Dude came out for this purpose, and so it was me, Dude, BIL, Farmsister, and then I called in the favor for M-L of having helped her move, and she said of course she’d come.

I went out at 8am with BIL, and we tore off the two top half-planks at the roof peak, so there’d be a proper air gap for ventilation. Had to cut out a little strip of the roofing underlayment too, and this made me so nervous, because it meant destroying what weatherproofing I had.

image: looking up at my cabin’s sleeping loft, the sky is visible at the peak of the roof through an opening approximately six inches wide.

But we got all set up, and double-checked the plans and got our materials set up. And then we set to work.

image: the cabin, with the roof covered in green Tyvek, my brother in law sitting across the peak, a ladder hung from the peak next to him and two stepladders in the foreground. Note to the right that there is an exposed bit of rafters-- those are the fly rafters, built off the end of the building to be an extra bit of overhang for the roof. In the background, the trees immediately behind the cabin are a riot of fall color, mostly sugar maples in shades of oranges and yellow and some red, with some of it still green.

I started off being on the stepladder, screwing down the bottom edge of the roof, but I gave that job to Farmsister because my left elbow has never been the same since I overdid things helping M-L move. (She showed up at 10, which was when we’d told her to come; we realized before that that we probably weren’t actually going to need her, so we told her to take her time and bring us donuts. Which she did, because she’s a sport.) M-L then saw me flexing and rubbing my elbow and was like “oh no what did you do to it” and i did not have the heart to tell her, so I just said I’m getting old.

Part of the reason I’d figured ML could be the 5th crew member is that if we didn’t need her, I knew she’d be fine just standing around being the peanut gallery. Anyone else would feel weird or be mad, but she wouldn’t care, and I was right, she mostly stood around and chased down screws the actual workers dropped, and Dude and I were not terribly busy but spent our time carefully prying apart the metal roof sheets which were damp and so had stuck together, and then carefully carried them over one at a time and handed them up to the folks on the roof.

Image: half of the south side of the roof is clad in metal; BIL is on the ladder hooked over the roof peak, and Farmsister is on the tall stepladder leaning on the screw gun as she puts in the screws right above the eaves.

We went up one side and then went around and did the other side, and started putting the ridge caps on as we went-- there were three sections of ridge cap, so one for about every four sheets of roof-- and we found the foam insulation that’s meant to go in as a spacer there, and got that put in. Still need to add the little insulation thingies under the eaves but that’s something for another time. (The kit hadn’t come with those, so Dude had to go drive around to several home improvement stores to find them all in the afternoon.)image

image: Farmsister and BIL each separately operating an electric screw gun, screwing down the metal roof panels in an artistically-framed photo that shows the very blue sky and the brilliant fall foliage of the tree overhanging the cabin.

We stopped for lunch at 1pm with one ridge cap still off but all the roof panels in place, and went in and had a white bean chicken chili that Farmsister had put in the crockpot overnight. It was very good. And we dismissed M-L at that point.

image: This is what the cabin looked like when we stopped for lunch. You can’t see that the last section of ridgecap isn’t on yet. You can see how bright the foliage is all around! It’s so pretty.

After lunch, just BIL and I came back out, and I handed him a few things but then he mostly was just puttering, getting the foam spacers in under the ridgecap and so on and so forth. So I went in and dug out the insulation batts I’ve had in the corner ever since we put the insulation in under the loft where it overhangs the porch, and I put on a mask and a kerchief over my hair and long sleeves and went up in the loft and stapled those batts up until I ran out of staples on the last batt.

It was only enough to do one wall, and not the peak, so it’s not enough that it’ll really be any warmer up there. But it’s something, and it’s a bunch less I’ll have to do later. The rest of the insulation batts are up in the barn loft and I was not feeling up to going and getting them.

We got the last ridgecap up finally, when Dude got back with the esoteric insulating pieces he had to drive all over robin hood’s barn to find. (BIL had also gone and borrowed a set of power shears from the neighbor; the plans said to overlap the last sheets a little extra but the measurements did not actually work to allow that, so we had to trim the edge of the roof to fit; it was too floppy to be left overhanging.) 

Image: this is the last picture I took, which is of BIL still on the roof peak ladder just putting a few final screws in, but it shows the ridge cap in place and the overhang trimmed to fit correctly, and the way the light caught in the foliage as the sun got close to setting.

We finished just in time to go in for dinner. Mom had made steak and mushroom pie, which is just about my favorite thing ever. I’d brought a bottle of champagne, so we had that before dinner.

I am feeling absolutely delighted; it’s not anything tangibly different in living in the cabin but it’s so nice to have a real roof. I’m very excited and I still haven’t picked up all the pots and pans and dishes and trays I had set out to catch drips the last time it rained but I’m going to, and take them in and wash them somewhere, because I don’t need them anymore!!

so anyway. that was sunday. but i got no writing done this weekend, needless to say, LOL. Still. Big news! Big progress.

I kind of really want it to rain now...

Chapel of Sveti Nikolas View of Entry

Jelićka, Bosnia

The chapel's oak base member originally rested on the ground until a stone base was added during the last decade of the 19th century. The entry, on the west end of the chapel, is reached by ascending stone steps. The roof structure is constructed by a framework of rafters. The roof cap member does not serve as a ridge beam. The present windows are larger than the original windows according to records. (photo 1988)

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Saturday 10 June 1837

8

2 ½

fine but dull morning F60 ½° at 9 and breakfast in about ¾ hour – out – about – Charles and James Howarth and lad Smith at the wash-house roof – the York joiners at my uncles’ room preparation for ceiling – sometime with Blythe – mentioned my idea of carrying the stoothing from the hall in one line all round stairs and all and framing the top above the stairs the sloping part like the hall, and the flat part in 8 square panels with roses or some ornament at the intersections as in the drawing room and stoothing the red room, and framing the top up to the ridge trees like the hall – B- seemed to like this plan very much – went down to the meer at 11 – Robert + 6 (2 still left or just gone back to the garden) had got over the last of the great stone for the by-wash, and began to help Mawson with Booth’s 2 great balks from the wheel-race to form his (Mawson’s) run for stuff to strengthen the weak part of the embankment – rain sent all to dinner a little before 12 – I took shelter in the hut and slept the hour the men were away – then with them again helping Mawson till 3 or rather after – all having taken a little shelter during the heavy shower about 2 – from 3 to 6 or after all hands Robert + 6 at the meer-clow-house – raising the walls so as to admit 3 more large covers over the ten steps down to the door, so that I shall now be able to hide the place completely from the walk – this too got the stone lying in Charles Howarth’s acre field gathered up, as also the great part of the scraplings which we gathered and barrowed down to fill up with towards the walk – all to be covered over and sodding on Monday with the sods to be taken off where M- is going to get the stuff – several showers and a little thunder during the afternoon –came in at 6 1/2 – Frank had carted six scores of slates from the old barn at Staups and 8 yards of flags from Hipperholme quarry to A-‘s Brooks’ cottage for the new kitchen Zebedee had brought stuff from Hipperholme quarr to level up the coach house court with – the tower chimney cap put on and finished before 11 this morning – Riley the joiner came between 10 and 11 this morning for the oak posts for the Hilltop cow house – Had the 2 Mann at 6 ½ to 7 – dressed dinner at 7 20 coffee – A- read me a little of the paper – came upstairs at 10 20 at which hour F54 ½° - fine morning till about 12 – ten rain for about an hour and several showers of thunder in the afternoon and rain in the evening and now at near 11 pm – had A- a few minutes in my study – then sat up till 2 reading the cutting open Tredgold on carpentry and Nicholson on ditto and his joiners’ guide received on Wednesday from Whitley’s – the 1st of 1827, the 2 others of 1826 – can these be the last editions?