Most Popular Posts
DIY Blown In Cellulose
May/13/08 08:50 AM
This past weekend I finished up the last major portion of the insulation. With a little help from my neighbor and the insulation blower that he had laying around in his garage, we knocked it out in about 4 hours. Although, half of the time was spent setting up the equipment and half of the rest of the time was spent standing around BSing, about how Roger inherited the insulation blower from the Mayor.
Anyway, This part of the job was so easy that I can’t believe that people actually get paid for this! And really overall, I probably spent about $150 on this project, minus what it would have cost me to rent the blower, which I believe runs about $50 a day. I think a few years ago it would have been much cheaper, but the one thing we can thank the “green movement” for is that any material that can be labeled as “green” can be charged double. I joke with Kristin that it’s called a “green” product, because it takes so much “green” to purchase it.
So here’s a few tips on how to do it.
- -It is a two person job for sure a feeder and a spreader.
- -Check local building code and see how many inches you need.
- -Carry a poker stick the depth that you will need for quick measuring (it gets deep and it’s too dusty to judge accurately)
- -Use a good dust mask and don’t be afraid to stop occasionally and let the dust settle.
- -Try doing it on a day with a lot of humidity (After a hard rain) this cuts down on the dust.
- -Work out a signal system with the feeder, on-off-on-off to let them know there is a problem, should one arise.
- -Start at the farthest point from the blower and work back towards it.
I don’t claim to be a “expert” but feel free to email me any questions you have about how to do it.
|
Insulation Installation
Mar/25/08 08:21 AM
We have begun the installation of our insulation, and it has gone surprisingly quick. Kristin has shown a surprising aptitude for this aspect of the project, so much so that it seems I’m the one asking, “Ok, what do we do next?”
I hung the foam baker board in the upstairs attic areas while Kristin hung most of the batts. We started downstairs and worked our way up. We were told that you are supposed to overlap the edges of the batts, but in an old house like ours, we were lucky to get one to overlap. I think at this point we are going to have to tape them or something.
Kristin hung the batts and I followed behind stapling them with the hammer stapler. While I was hanging the foam board in the attic Kristin got ahead of me, so I thought Sunday morning I would get up at 6:30 and go to the house and get caught up on the stapling while Kristin slept in. (For those of you who don’t know, our other house is just 4 doors down.) Anyway, I was at the house and I was rolling, I mean I was a stapling machine, Until...
I stapled my left middle finger to the wall. First of all, it’s a lot like smashing your finger with a hammer, but add on top of that two small puncture wounds. What you get is something very ^*%#ing painful! It would be all fine and dandy if my instinct was to leave my finger in place and remove the staple from my finger and the wall, but that was not the case. Nope, ripping my finger away as quickly as possible ruled out, thus adding to the injury. I quickly decided the only thing that would ease the pain was sympathy from my wife, so I headed out the door. A trail of tools and protective gear followed me, first I ditched the stapler that had turned on me like a pet snake. Then it was the one glove on the hand that got stapled, then the dust mask, and as I got to the door, for some strange reason I thought that I should leave the other glove because I knew it was best not to split them up. So I dropped the other glove. I would reckon that a good detective could have followed the trail from the door and surmised that I had indeed done something stupid.
I rambled into the house being sure to make enough noise to wake up my wife. It was great, I got hot tea and breakfast made for me. Some morbid part of me thought “Gee, I should smash my finger more often.”
Craftsman Signature
Jan/12/08 11:52 PM
This week’s find is not an item, so much as it is someone’s attempt to communicate to someone else in the future Or more simply, a message that someone wrote on the wall. Dated December of 1926, it is the signature of the painters that painted and wallpapered ad the indication of such. even more interesting is that apparently in 1973 this message was uncovered by someone else. Someone who also signed the wall that they were installing drywall over.
Unfortunately, this wall has to come down. It pains me to destroy someone’s immortal words that have been scribed to last for an indefinite amount of time within the walls of this beautiful craftsman home. Someone who, more likely that no, it no longer alive.
So I have sufficiently documented it and I am posting it on the internet, so that their name and words will reach far more people than myself. I think I might even wall up the photos along with the plans.
The Good, The Bad, And The Fluffy
Jan/04/08 11:46 PM
When ripping out the floors and walls, we find all manner of things. I classify these as cool items, strange items, and flat-out disgusting items. Well, for my find of the week I think it falls under all three, it is a mummified cat. We lovingly refer to her as “Fluffy.” She has been hanging around and disgusting anybody who dares to come and work or give a quote.
While ripping up the floorboards of a room, that had previously been a screened in porch, I got a bit of a shock. While at first I’d thought that it might be a stinky, nasty, ball of mush that I would have to shovel out, it was in fact as dried out and stiff as cardboard. I’m beginning to wonder if it might be as old as the house itself. Maybe it had mistakenly wandered in during the construction and got trapped inside.
One of the construction crew threw Fluffy into the dumpster. I was looking for the cat, when John fessed up to throwing the cat away. He claimed that he “didn’t like cats.” Anyway I fished Fluffy out of the dumpster and saved her from the local landfill. Everyone has suggested dipping her in polyurethane and hanging her above the fireplace, but Kristin won’t even look at the thing let alone consider this option. Oh well Fluffy, guess you’ll just have to hangout in the shed.
Permits, Inspectors, And Headaches
Dec/29/07 11:44 PM
Nearly 2 months later, we have FINALLY received our building permit. I’d swear that we have jumped through more hoops than a Vegas circus act. Kristin, being the one in charge of the administrative part of the renovation, is as happy as can be.
Most people fear the Building inspector. It almost seems that when the inspector shows up, everyone ducks for cover, and braces for the worst. In fact, when the Inspector showed up to inspect the temporary pole, one of the construction crew RAN all the way to my house to alert me that the inspector had arrived, when he could have just called my cell.
I do have to say, it was a bit intimidating. I expected some guy in coveralls and a clipboard. Instead it was 2 guys who looked the part of FBI field agents with matching jackets, hats and all. Kristin and I nervously introduced ourselves. And right off the bat we discovered this wasn’t some guy that was going to make us tear our house down and start over. No. He was, actually, very nice and extremely helpful. He told us a couple of minor things to change but that he would go ahead and approve it upon our promise to do so.
Kristin and I let out a sigh of relief as they started down the driveway. One of them was talking on his cell phone, THEN... They turned around and came back. “Um, Mr. Williams you are aware that your building permit was denied?” All the color drained from my face, as one of the crew squeezed passed us carrying lumber into the house.
I panicked, I looked at Kristin, back to the inspector, back to Kristin. I think my words were. “Uh, I... Um, sh eee, what?” Roughly translated meant “Oh, SH!T” It took every ounce of will-power not to take off running and screaming something to the effect of, “You’ll never take me alive, coppers!” But I didn’t, and Kristin calmly said “Oh, yea, they needed some paperwork that I took to them today.”
“Oh, ok, then come by the office today so we can get you your permit.” The color slowly returned to my face.
Literary Insulation
Dec/21/07 11:39 PM
One of the best things about renovating an old house is all the nifty things that you find while ripping out the walls and cleaning out the crawl-spaces. It is essentially like treasure hunting. Sometimes you get lucky, but most of the time you come up empty handed. However, yesterday (although I wouldn’t call it LUCKY) my builder told me I had to rip out the ceiling of the bedroom because the ceiling joists needed to be replaced.
Well, being Christmas and all, my mother was visiting so I did what any loving son would do... I enlisted her to help me rip out the ceiling. While ripping down the lath we noticed, what looked like magazine pages fluttering down from the ceiling. Turns out it was a small stack of magazines tucked away amongst the rafters. Upon further inspection we noticed that all the issues were dated the same year that the house was built. They were issues of the Saturday Evening Post from 1925. While they were entertaining to read, the real find was the name on the address label (Randomly pasted over the “os” in Post). Delivered to a Mrs. R. F. Bell. A virtual gold-mine since we’ve had no luck in tracking down any previous owners other than the person we bought it from.
The date on the earliest magazine that I found was (the one pictured above) February 21, 1925. And from what I understand, our house was recorded as being built in 1925, but does this mean that our house was built in January or February? The latest magazine was September 5, 1925, so it makes me wonder what the significance of the dates are or how the magazines even got there. Anyway...
Call me crazy, but I plan on cleaning them off and putting them in a zip-lock along with a current copy of the architectural plans and placing them back in the ceiling once we finish out the room. And maybe someone (In 82 years) will find them and think the same thing I did... Wow!
I will be posting this under the Items I’ve Found section of our website shortly. Get a Hi-Res image of the cover here.
Electricity + Water = Fire
Dec/12/07 11:33 PM
Since the removal of the chimney we have received so much rain that I am contemplating abandonment of the house project and instead building an ark.
When I removed the chimney, I tacked a board over the hole and sealed it with roofing caulk, thinking that was just a precautionary measure in case it rained. Rain it did, and has been raining for 4 stinking days. Needless to say my “patch job” is leaking like a civ. I would get up there to fix it but, with the roof that wet, the ride down would rival that of any slide at a water park. Which leads me to the topic of this post...
You see, the numbskull that I am, when I took down the chimney I accidentally skinned off some wires that were indeed LIVE. Combine that with steady pouring water that is running down walls and wires and add an antiquated fuse based wiring system; what you get is a recipe for disaster.
Monday morning, I had to meet Randy Johnson at the house so they could get started on the foundation. Well, when I opened the door, I smelled something, something that smelled vaguely like... Yes, an electrical fire. Both the dining room and kitchen lights were flickering on and off, and from the chimney area I could see smoke and sparks shooting in all directions. The wires were burning, in parts, but luckily (if you can call it luck), I did such a terrible job on the roof patch that enough water was leaking through to put out the fires almost as soon as they started.
About that moment Randy walked in too, I think he was as horrified as I was. We jumped into action and pulled the fuses and Randy cut and capped off the wires. He professed that he wasn’t an electrician, but that what he did to the wires had to be better than what was there.
Since then, my head has been filled with “what ifs” and a step-up on double checking everything. Also, the electrician is coming out to cut power to the house and set up a temporary pole as well. Once in a while we all learn lessons the hard way, fortunately this one wasn’t as hard as it could have been.