I felt such a wave of relief when The Wandering Monk wrapped up Phase II of this summer’s Great Foundation and Screen Porch Project on Thursday. We’re done, we’re done! Cross that project off the list!
Then the wave crashed as I remembered it’s now my turn: caulk, prime, paint, shingle, install screens, trim, then … oh, it just goes on. The Monk will be back for other (though smaller) projects in a few weeks and all through the fall. Meanwhile, my break will be filled with work.
Phase II was enormously more fun than Phase I (all that hard, scary foundation work). But as these things do, it took longer than anticipated and had a few hair-raising moments of its own.
On the last full day, the Monk had to take his circular saw up high to slice the bottoms off 14 feet of old shingles. That involved some redneck engineering.
When they built the place Jim Beam and Jack Daniels put shingles only on a couple of high peaks and so far we haven’t had to remove any part of them (knock wood). Naturally, when the Monk climbed his improvised scaffolding and got to trimming an inch or two he discovered that the boys had been up to their usual tricks.
I’ve mentioned before that Jim and Jack had a rule: If something’s structural, itty-bitty 8d nails will do. If it’s completely non-essential … well, you can guess what the Monk found holding those shingles to the wall:
Despite Jim and Jack’s obstacles, he got that job done nicely and we were able to place a wide trim strip above our new siding and below the old shingles.
That — barring hours of site cleanup — was that.
I tell you, that small moment of “we’re done!” felt like soaring through clear air.
This week I’d also been helping neighbor J with chicken-sitting duties for another neighbor who’s been on vacation. My reward was all the eggs I could gather, and for my nearly eggless existence, it was a lot.
So …
…. I used up eight of the eggs for this pair of chicken-bacon-broccoli quiches, which here are just about to go into the oven. I didn’t get pix of the finished product, but trust me, they were beautiful. I gave one to J and am still working on the other.
Yesterday I was mostly inert. Had the energy of a hound dog after 12 hours on the hunt. But I made it to a garage sale where I scored six tubes of my favorite brand of caulk, which I’ll surely use up ere long.
Then I booted myself in the butt, got ambitious again and returned to my very favorite of all construction jobs:
Though most of the walls have dreary old 4″ T1-11 siding (because that’s what was already on the house), I indulged in cedar shingles on the short walls surrounding the exterior doors.
Couldn’t paint or caulk the new exterior walls because we were expecting (and got) rain last night — the first in two months other than a few morning mists. Anyhow, that was my Official Excuse for working under the cover of the porch-to-be instead of getting on a damn ladder and slopping primer all over everything. Really, I just love shingling. I love everything about putting up cedar shingles, but especially the way they look when they’re done.
The one thing I don’t like is their $$$$$. Yikes. Last time I bought them, grade 2 shingles were $38 a bundle. This time? Thanks to the inflation they keep telling us we don’t have and Our Glorious Leader’s trade war with Canada on timber, they were $62 a bundle and I think I’m going to need a third bundle before I’m done here.
Thank heaven for generous donors. And you Amazon buyers, too.
Wonderful! You got the Horrible Wall sided, and didn’t think that was worth a pic or two, besides the one of the Hillbilly Scaffold? You know what this means, right? People are going to stop asking why you didn’t just demolish it and start over.
It’s great when the final finish material goes on the wall, isn’t it? And I love your shingles. I never considered using them because of fire danger, but they sure look nice. Are you going to paint them or let them age in place?
Joel — I’m going to let the shingles age in place. Then when they begin getting a little too silvery, I’m going to chemically treat them to bring back the original cedar hues. (This used to be done with a product called ShakeLast, but the paint expert at the lumber yard tells me that Our Beloved Federal Government regulated that little miracle-worker to death. Apparently there’s some other product that’ll almost do the job.)
And worry not: I will eventually have pics of the Horrible Wall. And more. I’m going to wait until I’ve gone farther with caulk, primer, paint, and trim.
There are still truly horrible aspects of the Horrible Wall. You know what happens to the inside view of a room whose window opening has already been drywalled and has a blind hung in it — when you re-shape a window opening and reset a window (at a markedly different angle)? Not pretty. Oh, so very not pretty. Still, even that operation went down with remarkable little fuss. The long run is looking hopeful.
Cedar is expensive but the beauty and durability is outstanding. That is what I used for gable ends but first stained them a dark forest green. Cedar gables over hardie plank walls.
Looking good Claire!
It struck me as funny that you have a “favorite brand of caulk”. That means you’ve been working on the house too long and it needs to be finished.
How many chickens are you sitting for? And do you know what breed they are?
Favorite brand of calk? Good heavens, that would be nice. đŸ™‚ I have two different sizes of calk tubes, and two different sizes of calk “guns,” and the tubes won’t fit into either of them. I’m all for independence, of course, but a little bit of standardization wouldn’t actually kill anyone, would it?
Ever try to use calk without a “gun” to push it? AKKKK
Ellendra — Six hens and a rooster. They were supposed to be Arucanas, but there’s actually sort of Heinz 57.
Kent — Yeah, I realized after I wrote that that a “civilian” (i.e. non-contractor) saying she has a favorite brand of caulk isn’t … exactly normal. True, though. And true that someday this house really, truly needs to get finished.