Infrequent posting does entail occasional posting and I did want to document that I survived 5 1/2 hours in the crawl space under our house repairing what the new buyers (appropriately) wanted fixed after their home inspector inspected it.
This is just one example of my domestic spelunking.
Embarrassing but in my defense, I haven't ventured down there for years
I still don't think I'd entertain guests here,
but I expect it to meet the inspection requirements
14 things I learned during my 5.5 subterranean hours:
I have no more interest in exploring caves.
Pushing insulation back up between boards while lying on your back means that bits of it fall on your face.
Insulation may look like yellow cotton candy but it does not taste as good.
I really should have been more serious about losing weight because squeezing my belly under ducts was...well...tight.
If it is 98 degrees outside, it is about five degrees cooler under the house.
93 degrees is still hot.
Copious sweat combined with dirt from the floor, pieces of insulation, and various unidentifiable but nauseating bits creates a kind of irritating goo.
Sometimes (thankfully rarely) unidentifiable but nauseating bits move.
When I am under the house and I scream in surprise at something moving on me, no-one hears except Daisy, who starts barking directly above me.
After 4 hours, my standards of workmanship drop significantly.
After 5 hours, I start saying, "The tear in this duct is not that bad and, besides, nobody will ever know."
I don't care how much money we saved by not hiring a contractor to do it -- it wasn't worth it.
It is possible while undressing, after surviving the ordeal, to be unable to tell for sure where your clothes end and your skin begins.
It is also possible to stay in a shower so long that the hot water runs out.
Thank God that our new house is being built on a concrete slab.
