Control Freak

In the absence of any control over my mom’s, seemingly, precipitous decline, I spent hours this weekend gutting our atrium. It’s a space the previous owner slapped on the side of the house, in part to house the furnace that heats the big addition he also built. The notion of changing the space came about when our furnace maintenance folks put the furnace on hospice, and suggested, when the time comes, to replace it with a 100% efficient heat pump. The furnace will be removed from the atrium space opening up lots of possibilities for how to use the space.

Today and yesterday I removed 80% of the infrastructure of the atrium. It’s fascinating, after 20 years, to learn so much more about the history of our house. For instance, the heating was converted to gas before the kitchen. Our kitchen’s gas supply is fed from the atrium space, right off the pipe that feeds the furnace. How can I tell? the age of the materials (recall, I build houses with my first husband for 12-years!).

I got all the lights working in this space today. A combo of dead bulbs, and a switched fixture that wasn’t plugged in. It’s so nice to have it properly illuminated! When I was done wielding tools, I stacked salvage wood, used a magnet on a stick to pick up 682 screws, and vacuumed the space. Talk about control. I’m sore and tired down to my knuckles, and it was worth every thwack of hammer to crowbar.

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