There was a time, not that long ago--only a day ago, as a matter of fact--when our basement looked like this. We had put much of our stuff nicely and neatly into the basement for safekeeping while we bashed up the rest of the apartment. Tonight, our basement looks like it does at left. You may notice that there is something missing, to wit, a ceiling.See, we knew there was a problem that was someday going to have to be resolved with the ceiling. Long, long ago, the ceiling was built fresh and new with lath and plaster. Then, presumably, the lath started to let go and someone brilliantly nailed up a bunch of sheetrock. That worked for a while. Then someone else came along and nailed up metal firesafe sheeting. Okay. But as the years (and years and years) went by, the lath continued to fall onto the sheetrock; and the sheetrock disintegrated and started to fall onto the metal; and the metal started to bow and bend under all the weight, and rust, and come apart. And, better yet, over all those years people were running water and gas pipes and electric cable below the now seriously unstable ceiling.
So, someday, someone would have to very carefully pull all the ceiling material down and replace it with new stuff (that would be us). We just figured it would be next year, or even the year after. But when we began knocking things down on the floor above, bits of ceiling began falling. We took down a panel or two, hoping to arrest the problem with the removal of the most serious offenders, but the project quickly spiraled out of control. This was the epitome of mission creep. As soon as we started it, there was no way we could stop, but also no way that we could finish it by ourselves. (Recall Jen's comment about how someone who knew what they were doing and would not get electrocuted should do the job.)
Onto the scene come Carlos, our intrepid all-round carpentry star, and his brother Wilson, and in one day they had the whole damn thing down without breaking a single thing we didn't want broken. Of course, every particle of dust that had drifted through the floor above in the previous 100 years also came down, and piles of broken plaster and sheetrock.
You know what I love? Respirators. Take a look at what didn't go into my lungs in the two hours or so I spent in the basement today. Jen, Carlos, and Wilson were down there far longer and their respirators were even dirtier, on the outside. We just might live through this.Tomorrow the trash haulers come to remove the bags and bags and bags of debris from the house. Our neighbors will no doubt be quite relieved.
