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June 25, 2006
Insulation, Week One
Robbi is gone fishing with her family, and so I set out solo Friday night, across the bay in Seiko's station wagon. There is no radio in the station wagon, so Iggy and I sat silently together, each wondering what the other was thinking. Then Iggy fell asleep and I was left to ponder the ether.
The drive was easy. No traffic on the bridge for some reason. Perhaps the would-be beach goers were wary of looming storm clouds. (For those of you not in the general Maryland vicinty, we have been under full deluge all weekend.) I arrived in Chestertown just as night fell. I raced to the barn, eager to see the work of the electricians. The entire space seems wrapped in a giant spider web. Yellow and blue wires. None of the wires are live at this point, which is good, since the sockets and switches are not yet installed. It's just a mess of wire infrastructure, the guts that had to be put in place before the insulation could be hung.
Here are a few examples of the electricans' good work:
After admiring the wiring, Iggy and I took a walk and went to bed.
In the morning I purchsed two Great Ones before heading to the barn. Upon my arrival, I was greeted with this sight: Michael had arrived before me and had set up the scaffolding.
Our charge for the day was opening this door, which was originally used to load hay into the barn. It has been sealed for some time now, and clings to the building in a rather precarious way, as Michael was to discover.
Basically, we had to screw the right hand side of the door firmly to the frame so that it would not fall and crush passersby. Michael told me that it was lucky that no passersby have previously been crushed. It was hanging by a few pathetic nails, he said. I'm looking forward to giving Bob a hard time about this.
In order to get the left side of the door to fold up nicely against the right, Michael had to trim the bottom with his skill saw. My theory: he just wanted to use the skill saw. Notice how I'm doing nothing in any of these pictures. Note how likely it would be that I would tumble from the scaffold given the opportunity.
After some careful work, the door was opened and firmly attached. (Passersby throughout Chestertown let out a collective sigh of relief.)
This new patch of light was our reward.
Once the door project was complete Michael said his farewell. He had to go to work, apparently, to help fix the machine that time-stamps chicken eggs. I got in the van and, against my better judgment, headed east to Dover. I was glad to find that it was not a NASCAR day. Dover was a place of relative calm. I went first to Lowe's, where the guy at the Project Counter was rude and the insulation selection was thin. I drove a mile up the road to Home Depot and met Ellis, who I would like to nominate for Employee of the Week, at the least. Perhaps of the month. I wish I had a picture of Ellis. Suffice it to say, he took care of me. He even went up on the cherry picker to get more of the type of insulation I needed. I was in the Home Depot for at least two hours, choosing insulation, tracking down the related accoutrements. I had to check out twice because insulation is enormous. I ended up buying eleven huge packages and filled the entire van. Iggy had only a tiny place between the two front seats to sit on the long ride home.
Back in C-town, I unloaded the van.
I stored the insulation in our small bedroom, where Iggy has also taken up temporary residence.
See here my assorted weapons: 1/2" heavy-duty staples, gloves, high-tech mask with breathing valve, and my very own box cutter (with 10 bonus blades cleverly concealed in the handle). There are, of course, various box cutters floating around the barn from Bob's private collection. They are old and stiff and scratched and generally ailing. For this important, delicate work, I thought it important to get a new, reliable box cutter. And so I did. and isn't it magnificent?
Now that you have seen my weapons, behold the enemy. Bob, Robbi, and others put a good deal of engery into letting me know just how awful a chore was hanging insulation. I was prepared for the worst. Here, a package of R19 (6.5 inches thick) for hanging up against the ceiling and in particularly thick walls. They did not sell rolls in the width I needed, 23", and so I bought "bats," which are lengths of insulation pre-cut to 8 feet lenghts.
I decided to intimidate the R19 by sheer ferocity. It lay on the floor, unimpressed and impassive.
Nevertheless, a few minutes later, I had won the first battle.
And, undaunted, continued apace.
Hanging insulation requires: a) patience, b) precision, c) unrelenting repetion. I have no trace of the first two, but seem to love tasks that require mind-numbing sameness. So long as there is a discernable effect. I love to do dishes as the stack of clean ones piles up beside the sink. This was similarly gratifying. But it was hot and tiring and trying and eventually I felt the slightest tinge of despair.
But mostly I was just gratified.
When it got dark I had to quit. In putting in our new wires, the electricians took the old ones out. Which means that, for the time being, we have no light in the barn other than that which floods through the windows. I made myself a big bowl of guacamole, played Nintendo for a while, and went to bed.
This morning Iggy woke me around 7:30. Once up, I was too excited about getting back to the insulation to go back to sleep. I worked for 5 hours or so until I had done as much as I could with the materials on hand.
I'm pleased with the work so far. I did my best to use the materials efficiently, but there were some inevitable casualties.
I was tempted to throw these strips away since they are thin and apparently unusable. But knowing Bob, I'm sure he'll want to take them to the scrap yard or to the auction at Crumpton, to see if someone wants to buy them.
I offer the following as evidence of the value of a dust mask. See all the muck that did not wind up in my lungs? I wish there was some way to recreate the warm salty funk that developed on the inside of the mask. Perhaps you are glad that I cannot.
I'm back in Baltimore now. Bracing for another week at the office, wishing that I was still in Chestertown on the eve of another day of construction.
Next up is the ceiling. I've ordered some space-age metal and foam insuation for placing right up against the ceiling. It's meant to deflect radient heat and is supposed to cut down attic (or barn) temperatures by 60 percent. It is supposed to arrive this week.
Next weekend is a four-day because of the 4th of July, and I aim to have the whole space insulated by the end.
Posted by bogenamp at June 25, 2006 11:28 PM