At about 8am, I'm sitting upstairs checking e-mails. I noticed that Wolf has managed to rip paper off the wall, when he stood up to stretch and scratch, and I wonder how he did that - none of my other cats managed to do it, though that corner's been a favoured stretch-and-scratch site for all of them.
I touch the wall, and it's wet. I look up, and see that the corner of the ceiling above is wet. We've had a
lot of heavy rain recently.
After a tedious interval of firmly-suppressed panic, worry, more panic, worry, and searching the attic space with a nightlight that kept blowing out, I discover where the leak is: it's under a pipe through the ceiling, and the wood is wet and the pipe is wet and while it's not disastrous, it's clearly Not Good.
I put a plastic washing-up bowl under the roof (it's not perfect, because the leak is too far under the slope of the eaves, but it may do something) and another container under the leak upstairs. I e-mail work to say I will be late in (it turns out my manager will be working from home today because of flooding on the lines between Edinburgh and Glasgow, so I add the tag "Water, water, everywhere".
I open the bathroom window and lean out and realise that there
is a pipe - above the tiles it looks like a plastic pipe - just about where it looks like the metal pipe is. And yes, around the pipe, the tiles look fairly disturbed and askew. (This annoys me, because we had the roof seen to last year, and they were supposed to fix it
all.)
Fortunately all roof costs are always split four ways, and hopefully my neighbour will have note of the builders he used last time, because I plan to call them and point out that I'm not happy we had to call them in
again.