Browsing Archives for March 2008

Insulation Bomb

March 3rd, 2008

Well I have some rather bad news to report.

Last night I visited the work site and saw something horrible.

It appears that some type of newspaper bomb went off in our house.


Shredded newspaper seems to have exploded in every room in the house!


Actually – this stuff is insulation, but it sure made a mess!


Hoses blow this stuff in and thankfully will suck it back out when they are finished.

One step closer to sheet rock and then paint and then floors and then cabinets and then trim and then plumbing and then appliances and then furniture and then HOUSE!

Notes on a House

March 3rd, 2008

The country doctor grew up in the house his grandfather built. His own parents did a lot of remodeling on that same house over the years. As they worked on it, I have heard stories of how they uncovered notations left by my husband’s grandfather.

Dennis, our builder also does a lot of figuring right on the bones of the house.

Here are a few notations he has left behind.

There have been several occasions during the construction of our farmhouse, that various men have made drawings for me. It is always a man, and it is always a very little drawing. Usually on a tiny scrap of paper.

They use these drawings as tools to try and explain some construction method to me, so that I can then use this wee little drawing to make a decision on some element of the house.

When I was trying to pick out our windows, a man, at the local lumber yard grabbed the pencil tucked behind his ear and drew something to explain something or other about how the window sat in the framing.

On numerous occasions, our general contractor has drawn a sketch for me on the side of the house or on a spare board, to try and show me how the siding or the window trim was going to look.

Even the cabinet maker has occasionally sketched a little something to try and make me understand how a certain corner cabinet might be affected by the cabinet next to it and why I might not want to put a drawer in that particular space.

All of these men are knowledgeable, hard working, decent people. I trust them with my house and my cabinets and my windows. I know they have skills and tools and abilities. But I could never understand a single one of their drawings.

I pretended that I could. I nodded my head and said “Oh!” or “I get it!” or “Yes, I understand now…” But it was a bald faced lie.

They may as well have been drawing pictures of a rocket launcher, for all the sense it made to me.