After a week or more of finetuning the ridgepole and columns, Adam was ready for more drama. It was time for the old roof and rafters to go.
By now, much of the time the work was mostly loud reverberations punctuated by pounding and thuds within the top half of our house. Most of it mystified me. It often sounded like a war zone, especially when the air compressor kicked in. Not that I’m complaining.
Here we were, six weeks and thousands of dollars later and nothing we’d done was of the sort that would appear on a flip-this-house kind of a video streaming channel – the superficial changes that one local inspector we know dismisses as “lipstick.”
You do have to love an old house. Or, for perspective, an old lover.
Now we faced the decisive moment. Off with the back half of our upstairs!
A large, “rolling” dumpster was in place.
That saw appeared like the fin on a shark.
And then the roofing was removed in panels.
We got an idea of what a deck up there would be like.
The dumpster quickly filled.
Jnana's Red Barn 