In the morning, I raked leaves (with the size of the sweet gum tree out front, this may be my weekend pastime for the rest of the year) while the guys got the furnace going. After lunch, we all ascended into pink, fluffy hell.
For some reason I thought putting insulation in would be much easier than taking it out. This is so not true. The rolls are just as itchy and irritating as the blown-in stuff, and you still have to wriggle around on your belly to get it in place. Plus, there are wires in the way. Joe’s dad did most of the hard labor, even though he swore off attic work. I barely did a thing and I’m sore, so I imagine he must feel like total crap.
We finished almost half the attic, although we still need to figure out how to get under the eaves. I’ll be ecstatic when we finally start screwing floorboards down. We’ll have some storage space, and I will have no reason to come near this pink crap ever again.