I’ve spent far too many hours on ladders lately, trying to chase down roof leaks that seem to pop up the minute I think I’ve sealed them off. Foam sealant, J-channels, new screws—if it exists, I’ve tried it. Still, the drips keep finding their way in, and it’s especially frustrating knowing that if I can’t get the roof sealed, other projects (like adding gutters) are basically stuck in limbo. One thing I’ve learned: sometimes a bigger screw or heavier-duty sealant can make all the difference, but you don’t know until after you’ve spent a weekend crawling around up there.
Historically, many folks used hand-split wooden shingles or even thatch roofs, which were surprisingly effective in shedding water if installed properly. Pine tar or resin-based sealers served as the “modern” roofing compounds back in the day. If you read about 19th-century roof building, you’ll find references to sealing edges with tar made from pine trees to keep wind-driven rain out. (A good resource is “Early 19th-Century Shingles” from the Historic American Building Survey). Even so, a roof’s enemy has always been hidden water that sneaks behind joints, so whether you’re using thatch, shingles, or metal sheets, the principle is the same: you need good overlap, and all seams must be tightly sealed.
After another round of sealing under these metal overlaps, I finally decided I needed a break from roof drama. That’s when I headed back to the fence project. If the roof has been the bane of my existence, the fence has felt like a small victory every time we tighten a line or clear away one more mess of brush. The plan is seven strands of electric wire, with alternating hot and ground lines so that even in dry weather, an animal touching two wires at once will get a proper jolt. It’s practically an old-school approach to “hi-tensile” fencing that many homesteaders have used for decades—arguably simpler and stronger than cheaper net fencing that deer can jump or push through.
They used to use living fences (hedgerows) or sturdy split-rail fences for boundary lines. In the 18th and 19th centuries, stone walls also did a lot of the heavy lifting. But as soon as barbed wire was introduced in the late 19th century, it became the “go-to” for large homesteads—although not so great when you’re dealing with stubborn goats or deer who learn to slip through. Electric fencing popped up in the mid-20th century, and over time it’s become more affordable and reliable, especially if you mix in a good ground system. For real deer-deterrent fences, some folks swear by two parallel fences spaced a few feet apart, or by adding extra height. I’m testing a high line or two above the seven strands to keep them from coming in at the top.
One corner of the property gave me headaches because the tension from so many lines started bowing the post. I had to add diagonal supports and pound them into our rock-hard soil. On top of that, I’m dodging an electric box, big rocks, and old barbed wire that was buried in random places. I called 811 before digging (always do that if you’re working anywhere near a utility line), but the real challenge was just the labor of driving those T-posts and getting everything lined up evenly. If you’re building or repairing a fence yourself, consider using additional bracing or even a different style of post at critical corners—it’s far easier to overbuild from the start than to tear it all out and do it again.
Another key lesson: pick tensioners you’re comfortable working with. I’ve tried both ratchet-style tensioners and the simpler wire strainers you twist with a special tool. Each has pros and cons. The ratchet ones are easy to tighten precisely, while the twist strainers often cost less and don’t require cutting the wire. If you have a long fence line, you may want to add in-line strainers in the middle of each run so you don’t rely solely on the corner posts to hold everything tight.
Deer can devastate orchards and gardens, so I’m adding two more lines up top for good measure. The deer around here are stubborn, and if they see an orchard buffet, they’ll figure out all kinds of ways in. Historically, farmers managed deer by planting strong-smelling companion crops around orchard perimeters or putting up simple 6-ft wooden fences (which deer often learned to jump). Some historical sources reference building 8-ft tall palisades or simply using dogs to patrol. Technology offers shortcuts like motion-sensor sprinklers or lights, but I’m sticking to a robust electric fence in hopes it stays in place for the long haul.
Once the fencing is done, I’m going to revisit the roof situation. Sometimes stepping away from one problem helps you see solutions more clearly. It might be a total screw replacement job using larger sizes or adding an additional sealant under each panel overlap. Worst-case scenario, I might have to remove a whole section and redo the underlayment. At least with the fence lines up, I don’t have to split my time battling a leaky roof and deer at the same moment.
If anyone is going through something similar—fence building or roof leaks—take comfort in knowing it’s a rite of passage for many homesteaders. There’s always going to be a short list of urgent tasks and a longer list of what’s coming next. But there’s also a certain satisfaction in doing it yourself, much as our forebears did. Every new skill or fix gets you closer to being self-reliant, and even when it fails, you learn something valuable for the next round.
Historically, many folks used hand-split wooden shingles or even thatch roofs, which were surprisingly effective in shedding water if installed properly. Pine tar or resin-based sealers served as the “modern” roofing compounds back in the day. If you read about 19th-century roof building, you’ll find references to sealing edges with tar made from pine trees to keep wind-driven rain out. (A good resource is “Early 19th-Century Shingles” from the Historic American Building Survey). Even so, a roof’s enemy has always been hidden water that sneaks behind joints, so whether you’re using thatch, shingles, or metal sheets, the principle is the same: you need good overlap, and all seams must be tightly sealed.
After another round of sealing under these metal overlaps, I finally decided I needed a break from roof drama. That’s when I headed back to the fence project. If the roof has been the bane of my existence, the fence has felt like a small victory every time we tighten a line or clear away one more mess of brush. The plan is seven strands of electric wire, with alternating hot and ground lines so that even in dry weather, an animal touching two wires at once will get a proper jolt. It’s practically an old-school approach to “hi-tensile” fencing that many homesteaders have used for decades—arguably simpler and stronger than cheaper net fencing that deer can jump or push through.
They used to use living fences (hedgerows) or sturdy split-rail fences for boundary lines. In the 18th and 19th centuries, stone walls also did a lot of the heavy lifting. But as soon as barbed wire was introduced in the late 19th century, it became the “go-to” for large homesteads—although not so great when you’re dealing with stubborn goats or deer who learn to slip through. Electric fencing popped up in the mid-20th century, and over time it’s become more affordable and reliable, especially if you mix in a good ground system. For real deer-deterrent fences, some folks swear by two parallel fences spaced a few feet apart, or by adding extra height. I’m testing a high line or two above the seven strands to keep them from coming in at the top.
One corner of the property gave me headaches because the tension from so many lines started bowing the post. I had to add diagonal supports and pound them into our rock-hard soil. On top of that, I’m dodging an electric box, big rocks, and old barbed wire that was buried in random places. I called 811 before digging (always do that if you’re working anywhere near a utility line), but the real challenge was just the labor of driving those T-posts and getting everything lined up evenly. If you’re building or repairing a fence yourself, consider using additional bracing or even a different style of post at critical corners—it’s far easier to overbuild from the start than to tear it all out and do it again.
Another key lesson: pick tensioners you’re comfortable working with. I’ve tried both ratchet-style tensioners and the simpler wire strainers you twist with a special tool. Each has pros and cons. The ratchet ones are easy to tighten precisely, while the twist strainers often cost less and don’t require cutting the wire. If you have a long fence line, you may want to add in-line strainers in the middle of each run so you don’t rely solely on the corner posts to hold everything tight.
Deer can devastate orchards and gardens, so I’m adding two more lines up top for good measure. The deer around here are stubborn, and if they see an orchard buffet, they’ll figure out all kinds of ways in. Historically, farmers managed deer by planting strong-smelling companion crops around orchard perimeters or putting up simple 6-ft wooden fences (which deer often learned to jump). Some historical sources reference building 8-ft tall palisades or simply using dogs to patrol. Technology offers shortcuts like motion-sensor sprinklers or lights, but I’m sticking to a robust electric fence in hopes it stays in place for the long haul.
Once the fencing is done, I’m going to revisit the roof situation. Sometimes stepping away from one problem helps you see solutions more clearly. It might be a total screw replacement job using larger sizes or adding an additional sealant under each panel overlap. Worst-case scenario, I might have to remove a whole section and redo the underlayment. At least with the fence lines up, I don’t have to split my time battling a leaky roof and deer at the same moment.
If anyone is going through something similar—fence building or roof leaks—take comfort in knowing it’s a rite of passage for many homesteaders. There’s always going to be a short list of urgent tasks and a longer list of what’s coming next. But there’s also a certain satisfaction in doing it yourself, much as our forebears did. Every new skill or fix gets you closer to being self-reliant, and even when it fails, you learn something valuable for the next round.
