I had a weird and somehow satisfying day today. Fore-armed with the knowledge that plumbers are smart enough to install appropriately-waterproof electronics enclosures, I stood inside a small-ish room maybe 30 feet by 10 feet, with a 4-foot water tank something like 20-feet long inside it. It was the day to cut up and remove that tank. And with Barry’s dad elsewhere, I got to stand in this unfinished room with a wooden mezzanine, and open paper-backed insulation and exposed wooden beams and stairs in contact with this tank, and watch as Barry cut about 60% apart today. My job was to stand there with a garden hose and keep the entire room (within reason) soaked “enough” to that the spray didn’t start anything in this very old and dried-out cedar building.
How much fun is that? Huh? When was the last time someone told you to stand in a room in a house, with a garden hose, and please, yes, DO spray down the walls to they don’t burn for the next several hours, because they’re going to make some really hot fire really close to those walls.
Call me a happy old man. Hopefully he’ll let me come along for the rest.