We call in Steve, good old carpenter Steve, who's bailed us out now, I don't know how many times. He sweeps in with his trusty tools and gruff voice, our personal Mike Holmes. There were rafters cut right down the middle—either pieced back together with masses of nails or left to dangle, fingers crossed by past homeowners that it all stays put. (Oh, THAT's why our ceiling sagged!)
In one day Steve replaced 6 rafters and attached boards from the roofline to the rafters for added support. He agonized to get everything level for the drywall to come. It's a beautiful thing when you see someone carefully work on your home. We were left with a secure ceiling, designed to last another 100 years.
Of course, we were also left with an open ceiling in the dead of December. I think this was Christmas week too. See that vent up there on the left? That goes right outside, a big gaping hole of freezing doom. We also couldn't turn on the heat because the cold air return is in the kitchen and we didn't want to suck too much dust everywhere. I bought some space heaters and we huddled in the living room. Me, dear Mike and both kitties, igloo-style.
But that won't do. Not for long. Right away we ran out for insulation and Mike was the man for the job. We got a lot. It was a Sanford and Son moment driving this entire stock home on the back of the Chevy S10. Hilarity ensued!
Of course, this is also for the basement, but that's a story for another day. A little internet research later and he got started. I sat in the other room with the cats, listening patiently to the sound of the staple gun, blap, blap, blap, for hours. After day one, we ended up with this: