It was alarming, on two levels. One, it was exceptionally loud when the ceiling fell. I mean, it fell in three big chunks and the whole house shook three times. But two, oh my god, that room is half as wide as this one and it sounded like, if that stuff hit you it’d be like someone dropped a sidewalk on you from eight feet up.
The trouble with troubles is that you always think you know the bottom of them. I thought I knew we could have easily died. But I did not know until I heard it fall. Still, it took them two hours to get it down. The radiant heat seems to keep the ceiling together in an annoying–and yet, comforting–way. The contractor said that it was still firmly attached at the walls inward for about a foot, but then the only thing holding the center of the room in place was the light fixture. When he took it down, he said the ceiling dropped about an inch.
The good thing is that he says he now feels really confident in being able to assess the other three rooms, since he’s seen how the sag looks from above. And he says that he can brace them in place, if he sees the start of sagging, for just a hundred or so bucks a room, so that we can save up the next $3,000 to get them fixed.
So, that’s a load off, as well.
But man. Wow. I tell you, the noise. It sounded for the longest time like it was raining pebbles and then it sounded like a car hit the side of the house, three times, in succession.
I kind of want to cry over it. I cannot tell you how deeply, deeply grateful I am to you guys that this is happening–that we can get the den fixed, too.
But I am still going to have nightmares about that noise.