Wednesday, August 10, 2011

French-Controlled Acid Mines

For some unknown reason, no one installed central air when they built our home. Epic FAIL! 

Seriously!? What were they thinking?! What a bunch of crazies! No A/C in hot, muggy Virginia? Bah! I can't imagine why they would leave out something so, so... 20th century! So what if our house was built in the 1870s! That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard! I'm going to march over to the graves of the previous homeowners right now and give them what for!



This silly rant was brought to you by a recent indoor temperature of 87 degrees plus humidity. And that was the downstairs temperature. Clearly, my brain got a little boiled. Clearly.

How do we cope with no central air in the summer?

Keep the shades down during the day.
Put box fans in the windows at night.
Resort to window A/C units when we are desperate.

As part of our ongoing battle to keep the house cool during the day, Stephen decided to install attic fans.


Not the most pleasant task when your roof is a metal frying pan and your attic usually gets up to 130 degrees in the summer. That's why Stephen chose the early morning when it was only 106 degrees in the attic to sawzaw his way through the side of the house.


It always makes me nervous when he does that. I don't like it when we cut holes in the house. It seems wrong.

Luckily, Joseph and I got to avoid the attic and watch from outside. Joseph was quite intrigued by the disembodied hand and voice from above. Maybe he thought we had an attic monster? Or an evil fish head eating twin? (Both of which are infinitely better than our former batty residents!)


He was quite excited when his DaDa's head joined those waving hands. "HI JOSEPH!"


At this point, I started envisioning the French-controlled castle from Monty Python with Joseph as King Arthur and Stephen as the French knight.



"Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time!"




As soon as Joseph is old enough to know what a horse is, I'm going to teach him about the crucial role of coconuts in horseback riding. Very important life lesson.


Once Stephen finished cutting a sizable hole in the side of our home (*cringe*), he installed the gable vent.


Then he climbed REALLY HIGH up on the ladder to secure the vent. Also something that makes me nervous. Joseph tried to follow his DaDa, but I dissuaded him with my eloquent persuasive skills. "ACK, NO!"


Task complete, Stephen clambered back down and informed me that he was returning to the 110 degree acid mines to install the gable fan. Poor man. I hope he likes acid...


Acid mines smell suspiciously like bats. Ick. That's why a precautionary screened frame will be placed over the gable fan. To prevent the return of the smelly demon creatures.


The fan is great! It turns on automatically whenever the temperature in the attic gets above 85 degrees. We've already noticed a difference in the upstairs temperature. Oddly enough, it's about the same as the downstairs. Will wonders never cease?


The only downside?? Sometimes, the backyard kind of smells like bats in the late afternoon. Seriously.

2 comments:

  1. The bats technically live on the outside of our house, but since tiny amounts of their poop get inside our attic, and it's been SO HOT, I have been getting periodic bat wafts. What an awful smell. Ain't homeownership grand? ;)
    I'm excited about your attic fan!! And the fact you don't actually have an attic monster... just a husband. :)

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  2. For a second there, I thought you were talking about a whole house fan. (have ya thought about the whole house fan? Very effective.)

    Also as I said to Theresa a couple weeks ago: you're never moving.

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