Going from a warm wet womb to sandpaper days is nobodys fault. Even 1200 grit can take too much off the top, and make friday fall short. Or hump-day go Plummeting into tomorrow. No one knows what causes a missed phone call, or cabinet of burned out bulbs; lessons without teachers. And christmas is always on the other side of a freshly mopped floor. I don't have much to offer beside I'm coming I'm coming in a minute. All I have to give is a used ladder, a new hammer a handfull of galvanized nails. I can't promise if you go once more onto the roof the job will get done. All I can say is, It looks like rain.