12.01.2007

A Collapsed Ceiling -- with a few pictures now

I don't have time for a long post, but imagine this:

Imagine you were remodeling the inside of your house, and you had workers working on 2 bedrooms and a hall, so you moved a lot of the stuff from those rooms into your master bedroom and also out into the rest of the house. Imagine plaster dust and plastic and the kind of mess you have when you're moving.

Imagine workers and machines and noise and lack of privacy. Imagine moving into the master bedroom, closing the door, and sitting down in the middle of the bed with your laptop computer, to figure out what has to be done today, and what the plan is. The kids are at school. You haven't showered, haven't eaten, haven't gotten a latte from Starbucks -- but you have done homework with your kids, fed them, bathed them, dressed them, taken them to school, come home and switched laundry around and cleared stuff from the path of the workers who arrived as you were leaving with the kids.

Imagine hearing water dripping, and looking up, and seeing rows of drips criss-crossing your ceiling. Then imagine making phone calls to get help to cover the roof, moving beds, moving boxes, moving belongings, asking the workers to cover the roof with plastic since you were waiting on the tarp and men you'd already arranged . . .

And imagine standing with an armful of books at the edge of your bed just as the ceiling opens and water and mud pours and water-soaked sheets of insulation fall and all the ceiling falls -- with you in the center of the waterfall, soaking the armful of books you were trying to save.

Imagine the flurry of workers and work and cleaning and moving and insurance calls and standing or walking for hours straight, never eating or drinking anything or showering . . .

And finally, imagine your house that was already a wreck covered with all the dirty wet articles from the master bedroom, spread over every floor and surface to dry, and all the furniture from 3 bedrooms also spread in odd places throughout the house.

You have just imagined my day on Friday, and my home at the end of that day.

Now, for few pictures from half-way through the clean-up of just that room -- with the mattress and box-springs and all the strips of insulation out, but the contents of furniture and closet littered there as we work to get it all out:






I'll try to post pictures of the roof and of some of the rest of the house . . . and of that room now that it is bare . . . tomorrow?

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