Remodeling Our Hut Part 28: Insulation Finished, Drywall Arrives

Every time I sit down to write about the remodel, I type out the same boring title and 'Part Whatever', and then I have to go back to the chapter before to see what number I'm on.  I have a hard time believing it's up to twenty-eight already. 

Today is Thanksgiving, and I want to extend our thanks to everyone who has followed along with this incredibly slow process. Your words of encouragement have helped us as we slog through this re-muddle.   Let's hope the series doesn't go much higher, but we're still not done yet. 

Anyway, back to Monday, October 14, trailers and trucks and contractors galore. 

 First thing in the morning upon arrival to the hut, the cellulose insulation crew arrived at our house to begin their job.  We decided to go with a lot more insulation than our house had been endowed with previously.   This decision, in turn, brought the cost of the remodeling up accordingly, but hopefully we'll notice the difference this winter and the winters to come.  If not, it was just foolish, but we'll see.

 Every morning I would park on our field driveway to stay out of the contractor's way and plod down the road to our house, checking out each vehicle to see what the day ahead would be bringing.  

 Trucks, vans, trailers, yes, today looks like another round of insulation.  I sighed and decided to stay out of their way as much as I could and continue working on the masonry.  

Just as I set to work on laying out stones for the pillars again, an argument broke out in the house.  Three of the insulation guys were hollering and swearing at each other. 

"That's not going to f%*$ work!!  I am not going to do that!!  I can't work around him!!  What the #$@$ do you want me to do?!"

 What in the world was going on?  The hostility was escalating and  I didn't know if there was something in their way that needed moving or what the problem was, but right then and there, I changed my mind about staying out of their way.  

I don't know if it's because I'm older now or the fact that my back is aching every day or that Carl is exhausted, and we were sick of water dripping through the roof or what seems like endless days and nights of work getting us no closer to the end of all of this or what, but something about the three grown men carrying on like petulant sock puppets in my dining room set me off.  Oh, hell no, just do what you are hired to do, don't start with me today.

The front door knob hadn't been installed yet (and as of today, still hasn't) so in order to open the door I had to insert the lower blade of my Felco pruners into the hole of the plastic stop and push it backwards while putting weight on the door.  As soon as the catch  released, I more or less fell into the house, knocking over a sawhorse on the other side.   I arrived with a bang.

When I made my dramatic entrance, the three of them stopped their hollering and looked at me, startled.  


 I doubt any of them knew I was the homeowner, dressed as I am all the time in my knee pads, worn-out blue jeans, garden clogs and a coat two sizes too big, not to mention the head scarf I tie under my chin.  (Stylish?  No.  Warm? Oh, yes, nothing better, trust me.) I realize I look like an old derelict, but I'm there to work, not stride through the jobsite like a model on a catwalk.

Beyond my attire, however, it appeared I came armed for battle, brandishing a rock hammer in my left hand and Felco #8 pruners in my right. Xena: Warrior Princess had nothing on me that morning.  Bring it on, boys.

 

 I wasn't the only one that heard the ruckus; almost simultaneously, our contractor, Phil, walked in the back door. 

Once they got over the shock and awe of seeing me standing there like my Home's Dignity Avenger, they turned to see Phil standing in the other doorway and picked up their tools and sheepishly went back to work.  

The foreman of the crew made the excuse that the men were just having a little tiff, "One of them thinks he knows everything and the other two don't see eye to eye with him," he shrugged.  "You know how it is with egos."

Hmmm.  Do I? For what they were billing us, I'd expect less ego and more work.

 Phil told me later that he'd had a talk with the insulation crew about their workplace demeanor.  He told them if they can't be professionals on a jobsite, they should take their arguments out to their trucks on the road.

Though I hadn't really done anything, I went back to the front porch satisfied they now knew who I was and heard no more bickering for the rest of the morning. 

  

Carl arrived home from work just in time to remind the last guy about the need for insulation in the bay window bumpout in the breakfast nook, an area of about 1' x 2'.  He was met with a bit of an attitude when he explained what he wanted done, and since there was no other way to have them do it, Carl sawed a hole in the floor himself for the insulation to be applied.  

Carl, sawing a hole through the floor for insulation. 

While Carl was sawing, the insulation guy simply stood there waiting for a few minutes.  When Carl was done sawing, it took less than a minute to fill the cavity with foam and he was done for the day.  Subsequently, they were going to bill us an additional $1300 for the nook insulation but our contractor went to bat for us and the matter was dropped. 

After Carl got done replacing the floor in the nook, I took more pictures of the day's progress.

On the right side of the picture are the piles of plywood with our orange vinyl siding still attached.  (We ended up using the plywood on the lean-to for the garage later on.)

Holes in the ceiling in the living room yet. 

Phil had to leave early that day, so Carl and I lent Bob a hand putting on some more of the siding.

Later still that same day, the drywall was delivered.

Boom truck lowering the drywall to the front door.

The mudroom siding was about half-done by the end of the day.

 

Once every contractor left for the day, Carl and I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to working on the pillars in peace until dark.

 Another day of work done.