Don't Let the Snow Come Down

We're always surprised at the new sights and sounds that greet us when we arrive in Taos, whether it's the candy-pink color of the Sangre de Cristos at sunset, the lushness of the mesa after weeks of rain, or the howling coyotes just outside our bedroom at midnight. This time was no different: spectacularly scalloped clouds of bright yellow to burnt orange spanned the western sky as we drove down 522 on our way to Las Mananitas in the early evening. The deep piles of snow in front of our house weren't unexpected, since we'd heard about the storm that paralyzed parts of New Mexico and southeastern Colorado. But when we opened our front door, we were dismayed to find a large spot on the living room wall where water had seeped through. Moments later we heard a steady drip-drip-drip and then were horrified to find our dining room table covered in water. The storm that had deposited large amounts of snow in our driveway had also dumped piles of snow on our flat-roofed home--and a tiny hole somewhere in the rubberized roof coating had resulted in some severe leaks. Our only consolation was that we were there to mop up the water and rescue the table. If this had happened during one of our long absences, the damage would have been much more serious.

In the days that followed, we became well-acquainted with the phenomenon that longtime residents had warned us about: the difficulty of finding a reliable repair person. We phoned several rooofing contractors who never returned our calls, and the one person who did agree to help us called the next morning to say that his aunt was sick and he'd be unavailable for the entire week. The assisant that he promised to send in his place had to cancel because of car trouble. Two days and much hand-wringing later, a contractor named Ray showed up with Dave and Virgil, two day laboreres he'd picked up at Walmart. Ray had them shovel snow off half the roof, then said he'd come back in a few days to patch the leaks. As it turned out, Crazy Ray and his crew never returned, but they did leave behind their ladder and snow shovels. With only three days until we had to return to Minnesota, Steve took on the challenge of roof repair himself and spread gooey black roof cement in all the right places. Our friend and construction guru, Brian, dropped by to give Steve moral support, and he assured us that the seals would hold through the winter. We'll be holding our breath until our return in mid-March (and we've covered all our furniture with tarps in case any new leaks pop up).

See the blog above for pictures from this memorable visit!