That’s reassuring to hear, honestly. I’ve been stressing over a small drip that started after a windstorm last month. I did the tarp thing too—awkward as heck on my 1940s cape with barely any pitch. I keep checking the attic for new stains or damp insulation, and so far, nothing’s changed. The moisture meter idea is new to me, though. Might have to look into that since I’m not always sure what I’m seeing up there.
I totally get what you mean about water traveling in weird ways. I thought I had a handle on it, but then I noticed a stain in the living room, nowhere near the leak. Turns out, water had followed a rafter halfway across the house. Wild.
I’m hoping I can stretch things until spring, but your point about not pushing my luck too far makes sense. Old houses really do have a mind of their own... I guess the trick is to stay on top of it, check often, and not assume it’ll just dry up on its own. Thanks for making me feel a bit less alone in the chaos.
Stretching things until spring is always tempting, but I’d be careful with that, especially on a low-pitch roof from the 40s. Tarps are a decent stopgap, but they’re not foolproof—wind can shift them, and water finds its way in the oddest places, like you saw with that rafter stain. Moisture meters are handy, but even then, hidden rot can start before you see obvious signs. I’ve seen insulation look dry on the surface while the wood underneath is already softening up. If you’re checking regularly and things aren’t getting worse, you might be okay for a bit, but I wouldn’t bank on it holding out all winter. Old houses really do keep you guessing...
I get where you’re coming from, and I’d echo the caution on waiting too long. Those old low-slope roofs are tricky—water just doesn’t run off like it does on a steeper roof, so even a small leak can spread out in weird ways. Tarps are better than nothing, but if you’ve got any wind at all, they shift or flap, and suddenly that “temporary” fix has gaps. I’ve had to go up after a storm more than once to re-secure a tarp that looked fine the day before.
One thing I’d add: if you do have to wait it out, at least check under the tarp after every heavy rain or snow melt. Look for any new stains or soft spots, especially around rafters and in the attic corners. Sometimes you’ll catch a musty smell before you see visible damage—that’s usually a sign things are getting damp somewhere they shouldn’t.
If you’re seeing stains on the rafters already, that’s a red flag. The wood might look okay now, but once moisture gets in, rot can set in fast—especially if it stays wet for days at a time. I’ve seen people pull back insulation thinking everything’s dry, only to poke a screwdriver right through the rafter underneath.
If you’ve got some basic supplies, flashing tape can help seal up seams or small holes as a backup to the tarp. Not perfect, but it buys you time. Just don’t rely on it for months on end.
I know budgets and weather can force your hand sometimes, but with something as old as a ‘40s roof, waiting until spring is always rolling the dice. If you notice things getting worse—like sagging or mold—might be worth biting the bullet for at least a patch job before winter really sets in. Old houses never make it easy...
If you notice things getting worse—like sagging or mold—might be worth biting the bullet for at least a patch job before winter really sets in.
Yeah, sagging is where I start to sweat a little. I tried to “wait out” a leak on my old garage roof last year, thinking a tarp and some wishful thinking would do the trick. Ended up with a soft spot that felt like walking on a wet sponge. Anyone else ever try that spray-on sealant stuff? I used it as a stopgap, but honestly, it’s more like putting a Band-Aid on a busted dam.
I used it as a stopgap, but honestly, it’s more like putting a Band-Aid on a busted dam.
That’s pretty much my experience too, but I’ve seen that spray-on sealant actually hold up for a season or two if the leak’s small and you catch it early. Still, once you’re feeling that “wet sponge” underfoot, patching’s just delaying the inevitable. Sometimes ripping off the bandaid before winter saves you a whole lot of headache—and money—down the line.
