The Thaw

A first: today I went up to work on the property NOT wearing my longjohns. (You might ask, how can you tell which property is not wearing your longjohns? Well, in brief… but I digress.)
In other news: We had a pretty great day. Marsh and I did the 2.5-hr commute, with Annie and Homer, for the second time, and got there just in time to meet the heating guy at 10:30. After talking through the bid in the house, I followed him up to the office at their headquarters 2.2 miles away, and signed a contract. Now they order parts; and when those are in they will start work, estimated to be sometime week after next. Within 2 days of starting the job, there will be heat on the first floor. Two days later they will be done.
Annie and Homer were unconcerned, as they clearly have heating and cooling under control.
Then we went at the paneling and sheetrock on the main level:
Along the way we discovered more those things that make you go “hmmmmm”:
Up until this point, I’d been prepared to believe that the previous owner (and ‘builder’) had initially intended to tape, mud, and paint the wallboard, but had changed his mind for some reason and covered it all with cheap paneling. But when we uncovered this Mondrian-like masterpiece, I realized that couldn’t be the case. Unless….. naw….
And:
Notice anything missing? If you said “insulation” you win a gold star.
I disconnected the old kerosene monitor exhaust vent:
I found an electrical line behind a wall that terminates without any … anything. Pretty sure that’s not code:
But when we were done, we paced the kitchen and then the upstairs, planning the space with more specificity than we had before:
The firring strips on the floor denote the planned walls for the bedroom. Ignore the toilet in the corner. (Oh, hadn’t I mentioned the toilet? That would officially be the largest bathroom in Maine, but it didn’t qualify because it’s not functional.)
We found we work together on demolition like a well-oiled machine. But we’re also sore and tired. And vastly encouraged despite the wacky electrical wiring, the mouse carcasses in the walls, and the mysterious Building-Techniques-of-the-Infamous. Vastly encouraged.