I
t's hard to be a considerate neighbor when running a diesel compressor at 11:00pm at night. I'll admit, I was ready to call it quits, but Sally wasn't, and we only had a little bit left to do to finish our upper East wall. I balked though, and played the Good Neighbor card, and Sally cursed my weakness. Courtesy was a nice cover for laziness tonight.
I'll describe the sand blasting tonight as "intimidating." The compressor is big and loud (though easy to start), and the "pot" we fill with sand can handle about 180 pounds of sand and doesn't have a shut-off at the nozzle-tip. It's nice to have two people running the thing. The real difficulty is about 2 minutes after you start blasting. In our 48x30 upper sanctuary with it's 21' peak the room was filled with a plume of white and red dust thick enough to be called blinding. You really feel like you've entered an alien world with the worklights being the only visible points of reference, and only when you're within a few feet of them.
Part of the work took place about 17 feet up on the top of scaffolding, and that's when the loss of vision caused some hesitation for me. Movements became very deliberate, and we developed a knock system for turning the sand on and off. 3 knocks, cut the flow. 2 knocks - pause - 2 knocks, turn it back on. We tried a more complex knock sequence for "I've fallen and am hanging from the airhose by my neck." But it didn't work very well.
Anyhow we made some progress, and will try finish it tomorrow. Maybe by next month I won't still be tasting grit in my mouth.
What a great site!
AnnieK