Sledge hammers, construction hats, and an excavator: weekend fun on the farm. Last Saturday we demolished the so-called pool house—a glorified shed, foundationless, with fluorescent wall colors, an upstairs crawl space/ “sleeping loft,” and numerous electrical hazards, which Alan removed before advancing the heavy machinery.
This building—may it rest in peace—was a special combination of nightmare funhouse and code-violation showpiece. (“Never seen a toilet like that,” said the building inspector when we bought the place. “I wonder where this leads to.” Turns out it piped into the farmhouse-basement septic, where the tank was installed upside down.) Naturally, we were eager for this Day of Destruction.
Adjacent to the former pool house are, of course, the pool (also slated for annihilation), and the magnificent D-I-Y solar heating system, long abandoned and left to rot: a wooden panel the size of a Winnebago, adorned with coiled black hose. When this thing was functioning—back in the Bronze Age—it presumably pumped pool water through to warm it.
Soon this space will be a nice, green lawn. Ah, the joys of clearing clutter!