A few days ago, we decided to tackle the "decorative" piece of drywall hanging from the ceiling, making a visual divider between the kitchen and dining room. I'm sure this giant, useless, yellow, curved piece that blocks a lot of light and makes the ceiling look shorter was really cool at some point... well, maybe not, but somebody sure thought it was.
We figured it would take about an hour to remove this. AHAHAHAHA.
I climbed the ladder, excited to use our shiny new drywall saw for the first time.
"Ok, just stab it in there. You need to make a keyhole," coached my husband.
"Sure!" I said, pulled my arm back, and stabbed as hard as I could.
The saw bounced.
No hole, not even a dent, nothing. When Brett managed to pull himself together after a solid minute of nearly choking to death laughing at me, he climbed the ladder to do it himself. Nothing.
So we peeled away a little of the paint, and discovered that this piece was not drywall at all. It was wood. And it had studs. And plywood. And a layer of laminate. Basically, if you wanted to build a nuclear bunker out of wood, you would want to hire the guy who built this thing into our ceiling.
As we cut into it with our hand saw and hit it with the sledgehammer, we discovered it wasn't just nailed in place, either. It was nailed in, of course, and with nails gigantic enough to hold up the whole house. It was also screwed. And somebody had a field day with the staple gun and brad nailer. Also, it was glued together AND TO THE CEILING AND WALL.
Finally we had to give up and go borrow a reciprocating saw. So a full 24 hours after we started our one hour project, here's Brett finally freeing the first section.
Two days, lots of sore muscles, and one very late night later, we had it down!
Hermione was unimpressed by the carnage. How does she manage to sleep through the sawing and smashing? Brett and I have had headaches for days.
And this was supposed to be the easy part. We are in for a wild ride...