Farmer H's Folly

You might remember several months ago when Farmer H decided to reap the benefits of our long-standing, overpaying relationship with our homeowner's insurance company. Farmer H declared that we have paid a small fortune over the years for security in the event of a major catastrophe, and doggone it, we're good customers, we're smart customers, and we are not going to live with hail-damaged vehicles!

That little plan paid off. An insurance adjuster came out, Farmer H got a day off from work, and several substantial checks were issued in the names of Ma and Pa Kettle HM and Farmer H. Which were promptly put in the bank for future expenditures, and we're living with hail-damaged vehicles.

Last week, when Farmer H was doing who knows what, tooling around the grounds on his Gator, having finished his last themed shed for his shantytown, and in the middle of getting a foundation of sorts for his freight-container garage after reaping the benefits of the rock money...he noticed that we had a couple of shingles loose on the roof. He sent his Number One Son up there, who is indentured for an indeterminate amount of time due his deep discount on buying Farmer H's Pacifica. NOS said it looked like we might need a patch, because simply nailing those shingles back down didn't look like it would work.

So Farmer H called a roofer. He probably had that number in his head. He knows all manner of handy folks, proficient in all manner of building trades. The roofer guy told Farmer H that we had considerable hail damage on our roof. He gave an estimate for patching it, and said he could give an estimate for a whole roof if Farmer H wanted to submit it to his insurance company.

Here's the problem. The same insurance adjuster who paid generously on the auto hail damage also inspected the roof that same day.

"Yeah. But she didn't go up ON the roof."

"Yes she did, HM. She got a ladder and climbed up there and said there was no hail damage. I thought that was kind of odd. So much damage on the cars, but not on the roof. I'm going to call our agent and raise not-heaven about it. Then I'll give them the estimate on a whole new roof. The worst they can do is say no. And I'll tell them they need to send out another adjuster to look at it. My roofer says he will meet them and show them exactly where the damage is."

So...Farmer H got to talking. The insurance agent, a football hero I went to high school with, was represented by his office manager, a gal I played high school volleyball with. Farmer H pointed out that the car which received a hail damage check was parked three feet from the garage, and it was unlikely the garage, which is connected to the house, did not get hailed on as well. Office Manager said to get an estimate and bring it in, and they'll see what they can do. After all, we've been buttering their bread all these years, on time (for the most part, except when the mailman lost our bill).

Farmer H also discovered that a neighbor up the road, on the way to the house where the headless body was found in the septic tank, just had his roof replaced, due to hail damage from that same storm.

The roofer is going to drop off the estimate for the roof replacement. Farmer H has instructed him to bring along samples of the new metal roof colors. He does not want to worry about shingles for the rest of his life. And a cedar house looks good with a metal roof. Agrees the whole family. Minus the hoity-toity college boy.

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Pardon me. I've got a bit of housekeeping to do.
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