Pauly and I installed a huge skylight above our bed about 11 years ago. I love creating as many opportunities as possible for natural light to stream through our fixer uppers; it just makes the space feel good. And as a bonus with this particular added light source, we get to enjoy a little stargazing before drifting off to sleep.
We're both completely nuts about our skylight; however, each time it rains, our bedroom turns into a Chinese water torture chamber - complete with wild flailing, high pitched screams and cursing.
Apparently, many contractors hate skylights for this very reason. I've heard some claim that they always leak no matter how they're installed. We followed the instructions to a T. Who knows. We only have experience with this one, which functioned perfectly for the first nine years.
Snow found a way to come in through the skylight a couple of years ago, but we solved that by stuffing old dish towels in the air vent. Wah-lah! A dry bed! I love our effective, redneck solutions when we're not in the mood to properly finish off a project quite yet. I don’t know why, but I take great pleasure in these totally unprofessional fixes.
One of my favorite solutions is to loudly suggest with a hillbilly accent, “Let’s go buy a taaahrp!” Pauly will always balk at this idea at first, but sometimes he actually gives in. It's a pretty reliable redneck fix to many of our problems. Plus, I absolutely love doing accents!
The last time Google took an aerial photo of our property, they only captured three of the eight tarp piles in our yard. I was slightly disappointed. I really wanted to show them off a bit more. Our yard tarps are pretty fantastic.
The excitement in the bedroom that we've currently got going on is a brand new leak in a totally different spot. The drip now hits me directly in the face. And waking up to that unpleasantness means that there is one loud, highly agitated wife in the bed. This has been happening nearly every nightly rainfall for the last several months, which, thankfully, hasn't been very often. And the only reason I haven’t suggested my favorite tarp solution yet is because I don’t want my view of the stars blocked.
The other night I told Pauly that I've noticed I'm becoming fearful as soon as I hear raindrops outside at night. My nervous system amps up and although I quickly curl up with Pauly on his side of the bed, I still worry that I'll flip back over to my side while sleeping. The rain begins and then the narrator in my head says in a low, sinister voice "Torture time is about to begin, Dana. Prepare to be driven batshit crazy."
This type of talk does not make for a restful night's sleep.
Pauly and I have so many remodeling projects going right now that life feels a lot like one major deadline after another. We work all day, chill with Netflix or soak in the hot tub before bed, and then sleep like logs (unless it's raining) before we get up and start all over again. So finding a good solution for this leak hasn't risen to the top of the list. Actually, it hasn't even made it on the list yet.
Or wait. Maybe Pauly's making sure that it stays that way. While writing this, it just occurred to me that not addressing the leak could be Pauly's sneaky way of getting me to snuggle with him all night long.
Hmmm. I think I may be on to him. Literally.
I guess an all night long cuddlefest ain't so bad after all. I can happily keep taking Pauly's advice to stash a bunch of thick, water-absorbent towels nearby and scooch onto him until the rain stops. And ya know what? I think this is about his sweetest, most adorable redneck solution ever. ❤️