Thursday, April 26, 2007

The days blend together

So we're a little behind on blogging. Give us a break. We're tired.

Here's some stuff that happened last Monday and Tuesday:

1. We finished up the second layer of plywood on the floor -- the "underlayment" -- since John wisely realized that if we did wall drywall first, we'd have a pretty hard time getting the plywood in place.

2. We figured out the insulation. It's recycled denim, which we like for many reasons--no formaldehyde, recycled, not itchy like fiberglass. You just stick it between the studs and away you go, notwithstanding a little dust. Now the walls are blue!

3. We figured out the vapor barrier. Stapling plastic over the insulation: not too hard. Now the walls are shiny!

4. And then we kept drywalling. Got a big piece in on the back wall. It gave us lots of trouble with the screwdriver, so we fastened the bottom (where there's enough leverage to lean into the screw and not slip) and left the top for when we could come back with nails and a calm state of mind. Now the walls are grey, fragile and dotted with holes we'll be filling in with joint compound at some later date.

5. We saw some wildlife. Now, all along we've been seeing mice in the house; wild, unafraid mice. OK. Then last weekend I was in the basement and saw a rat. It was fairly huge and seemed right at home. Hrm. Then, Tuesday night, I'm putting the last of the screws in our big drywall panel and hear John gasp behind me. What, what? "There's a huge snake in the rafters," he says. Sure enough: a blacksnake arched over the ceiling joists in the dining room. It was maybe 3 feet long, with a white throat. We kept an eye on it as it slithered up a rafter between pieces of insulation; I saw its thin, pointed tail disappear. And we haven't seen it since! It must have come into the crawlspace and up into the house through one of the many gaping holes we have in the floor. It's this kind of thing that makes the place feel more like a barn than a house. So yeah, we're working on that. Ssssssss.

- Erika

(the simple request of a stud we hope never bows)

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