Collapse

Last night, a little after 10 p.m. I’d just fed the woodstove a couple of fresh logs and I was warm and comfortable, even with the world outside clogged with heavy, slowly melting snow. I thought of snuggling into bed under thick quilts, laying my head on a soft pillow and closing my eyes. I yawned.

There was a deep, muffled, ominous whumpfffff from Out There, loud enough to get my attention but not loud enough to make me startle.

“What was that?” I wondered, a little concerned.

“Dunno,” said Mr Wren, not taking his eyes off the television. Disinterest oozed from his every pore.

I went to the slider and turned the light on. Everything looked normal. I went around to the laundry room door and hit the porch light switch. Opened the door and peered out.

OMG. The carport had collapsed under the weight of a foot or so of snow on its roof. Beneath it, buried, was my late father’s 1988 Celica. My old Celica. It was because of that car, and the damage the weather was doing to its ragtop and general, overall condition that we got the carport in the first place.

I called to Mr Wren, “You’d … um … better come look.”

“What? What is it?” I heard the thump of the recliner’s footrest snapping down in the family room as he stood. “What happened?”

“The … the thingy fell.” I couldn’t for the life of me remember the word “carport.” In my shock, it just disappeared.

“The what fell!?” His irritation was palpable.

“The … um … the over-thing. Out here…”

He got to the door, looked out. For a long moment he said nothing, then cursed and stalked back to his recliner and his TV, leaving me standing there, blinking.

I don’t know how badly my dear old car is damaged. I can’t get to it. There was nothing else under the carport of any value, fortunately – we’d moved the new Kia up the steep driveway to the lane so we could get out if we needed to go anywhere. So we’re good there.

But I spent quite a while outside yesterday, moving back and forth beneath the shelter of the carport as I shoveled my way through the snow to the woodpile. Halfway through the chore, I went in for ice-melter to scatter and a little later, for a hot coffee to sip while I worked. Thank goodness the carport didn’t collapse then, while I was standing under it.

I’m still a bit stunned. I’d never have guessed that a thick cover of snow would stress that structure to this point; the carport roof was pitched and it seemed quite sturdy. But it’s been a decade since we’ve had this much snow all at once, and we’ve only had the carport for a little over two years.

Live and learn.

I called our insurance company last night and made a claim for the carport and the car, which I figured was damaged, though I won’t really know until we can get the carport removed. I’m waiting for a call back from them now. Don’t know yet if they’ll cover this, but I’m hoping they will.

More later.