It is raining in my house!

It seems that the monsoon season has finally arrived in New Mexico and look what joy it has brought to my bedroom ceiling.  Whoever said that Spanish tile roofs were sure to last for 100 years is full of bolognie.  We had to put a huge laundry bucket filled with towells under this particular spot and you could hear the melodic sound of drip, drip, drip all night long.  I remember when I was a little girl and I used to sleep in my grandma's attic on rainy nights.  The sound of that dripping was quite cozy.  Not so much this dripping. It was more like Chinese water torture.  So now we will be spending yet more money on home improvement.  (We've already replaced the hot water heater and the swamp coolers this year.)  Sometimes I wonder if home ownership is all that it is cracked up to be.  Sure, we don't have a house payment, but we might as well with all the repair bills.  How am I supposed to pay for lessons at Ultimate Dugout people? :)  Anyhoo, does anyone know any great roofers who don't have a two week long appointment wait list? No? I didn't think so.  I just can't help but think that if Sam and I were Charles and Caroline Ingalls, we could climb up on the roof, cover the leak with a seasoned bear hide and then shingle over the hide with wood squares we had cut from the trees down by Plum Creek.  Those guys rock!