Here's a picture of my pergola in happier times.
Here's a picture of it today.
It collapsed under the weight of the snow early yesterday evening. I had been watching it all day; I knew it was going to go. I could see the nails pulling out of the support beams and I figured it was just a matter of time. I was pacing the floor, wringing my hands and gnashing my teeth. I was afraid to even go in the kitchen or dining room because I was afraid it might explode under all that snow and send the beams crashing through my windows. The worst part was how helpless I felt. I was virtually trapped in the house with the snow slamming into everything and all paths out cut off. I finally called poor Amy to say goodbye, in case I didn't make it. She assured me it wasn't going to explode, but that the weight of the snow would drop it straight down. I tried to believe her because that thought had also occurred to me, but I was still very nervous. I was huddled in the bedroom, venturing out every so often to peek at it. Finally, at about 4:30 I looked and it was just gone. Gone. All I could see were the upright posts sticking up. It had dropped just as she said. I never even heard it. It just dropped silently onto the deck itself, partially cushioned I guess by all the snow underneath it. I felt sad, but vastly relieved. It was down and it hadn't smashed into the house.
Nothing much to do now except wait for the spring melt. Poor pergola.
