Blood, Sweat, Tears and Insulation

The first phase of insulation has been completed with the recycled newspaper having been blown into the exterior walls. Once Sheetrock is hung on the ceilings the last phase of insulation will happen with the cellulose being blown in between the rafters. In preparation for the Sheetrock we have covered the hardwood floors with plastic--our house is starting to look like one of the kill rooms from Dexter.

Because the insulation feels like a turning point (it helps so much to define the space) I have been reflecting on the work of the past five months,
and most of all I feel really lucky. There have been many low points, like the day the inspector uttered the phrase "widespread termite damage" right after we purchased the house--I remember feeling nauseous. Or the weeks Joe and I spent crawling around under the house cutting out old cast iron pipes wrapped in questionable material. It was 100 degrees and we were wearing hazmat suits and respirators, my knee caps looked like badly bruised apple skins from the rocks and pieces of brick in the dirt. There was more than one occasion when I sobbed under the house. I timed my breakdowns to coincide with the sound of the Sawzall Joe was using. There was plenty of cursing, there were urgent care visits and Tetanus shots, and in customary fashion my dear father-in-law shed some blood along with us for the cause. Before we bought the house we optimistically thought that the demo could be done in a weekend with a bunch of help from family and friends--we couldn't have been more wrong--it took FOUR MONTHS of heavy lifting and three 30-foot dumpsters. There were many days of the incredibly hot summer when we were alone and armed with the wrong tools. Those were the overwhelming moments when I thought we had made a bad decision, or wished I hadn't been an art major because I surely wouldn't be doing something like this had I any money at all. Surprisingly, those feelings have always passed. We might work like dogs, but we are so lucky. After our first house sold we were able to pay cash for this diamond in the rough, and all those years of art school spent learning how to make things have made us very capable people. Where we have the money we use sub-contractors for some of the specialty work like plumbing, electric and Sheetrock, and where we don't have the money, we fortify ourselves and move forward into the unknown. That is in part what is going to enable us to have a very small mortgage payment after this project. Living responsibly is important to us, and bringing a nice old house back from the brink to offer the historic downtown neighborhood one more finished project feels good. My mom has a great ability to see a house for what it can be, rather than what it is at the moment, and my dad at a much younger age (24 yrs old I think) moved his family to the Maine woods to a house built in 1820 with no electric and no plumbing and no elder family members close by to help like we have. He wired and plumbed it himself. That seems incredibly brave to me. At 24 I was not that mature and certainly not that brave. My father-in-law has been building houses for years and is able to fill in the large gaps in our knowledge. Joe's parents are incredibly supportive and have good ideas. It seems an appropriate time to reflect on our trials and tribulations and to give thanks for this incredible opportunity.