Adding a window: Sliding on some Siding
I've resumed exterior work as my install of the added window is looming. The special order even came in; the beautiful window is sitting calmly in the garage ready to be deployed to its new home. But first, I have to replace the siding I'd torn off, cut the opening around the new, framed window space, punch into the house, and prepare the opening to receive it.
Since I'd torn a piece of siding in half to get to the area for framing , I had to go back into demolition mode and make space for an new, full-sheet. It was back to more crow-bar and hammer work to rip the rest of the second sheet off. Once again, I was pulling nails and picking them up from the ground of my pool-side workspace.There's no sense in finding them later in the summer, whilst barefoot, if we ever get to swim again.
Nope, still no hidden treasure trove of Civil War Confederate gold.
It's so odd seeing the house half-naked like this. The reason I'm tearing it up and adding a full sheet from the left side is to keep the spacing of the boards equal, across the back of the main wall. The lower section on the right is part of an addition by distant predecessor, the home office space. It's the room against what was once the exterior wall of our daughter's bedroom and now blocks her original window location.
As you can see, I'm risking life and limb on this one. Not only do I have a mere razor's edge of shade available to hide myself from the ferocious Arizona summer sun's assault, I am working perched on the precipice of a cliff, above a concrete lined hole in the ground.
I couldn't use a full size sheet as I had planned. It turned out that 4x8 sheet of T1-11 siding is several inches too tall. It would need to be cut down to size.
Can you believe that a DIY "right tool for the job" renovation mad-man such as myself doesn't own any sawhorses or portable work tables to cut on?
I do have an empty swimming pool however.
That'll do.
That's not an ascot I'm wearing friends, I'm trying out one of those cooling towels.
I realized I'm never smiling in my action photos. I'm just doing my thing while the camera does its thing. I'm hot and thinking about my work, too busy for pleasantries. I figure I'd finally share one where I'm really letting my personality show.
Frankly, I think I look like an idiot when I grin like this:
Now that's a good lookin' dude, if I may say so myself.
Working alone can be a pain in the ass when dealing with big stuff like this. I had to somehow lift the big sheet into place (2 hands) to do some hammer and nail work (2 hands). That's four hands worth of work. It's not too heavy, it's just unwieldy. After several failed attempts, I finally made a simple lever with a Wonderbar and a 2x6. I was able to lift, hold, and slightly adjust the sheet around with one foot, just enough to get the first two nails in the sheet, holding it in place.
Die hard leverage action!
On the subject of the shoes...
I'm trying out some new Atlanta Cool work shoes my friends at Keen sent over for me to to put through their paces. These lightweight, breathable, steel-toe beauties have quickly become my summertime action worksite footwear. I've been giving them a beating for weeks and they still look great.
I used galvanized nails to attach the sheet. I don't need any more rusty nail heads around this place. As I pounded them in I almost always hit the studs. Marking their locations at the top, above the new sheet kept me mostly on target.
Now you know why I cut some fingertips off my left work glove.
With the sheet partially overhanging the window opening, it was easy enough to cut it out with a reciprocating saw. I traced the blade along the 2x4 frame as a guide. It was easier than it sounds. As long as I kept an eye on it, I could stay on track. It doesn't have to be laser straight anyway , the flange and trim will cover it.
A case of reciprocate-ocity.
I skipped across it in my last post, because I was talking specifically about the plumbing part of this project
. but I nearly forgot to put a support piece in place for the the new water line before covering it up. The Kreg Jig was the best solution for the tight space.
No going back to the cushy ergonomic comforts of the garage workbench for this one; I did the job in the wild,
like a savage. I zipped a couple pocket holes in each end of a 2x4 with the Kreg R3 Jr. Pocket Hole Jig.
No workbench, no worries.
Pocket holes worked out perfectly. I screwed the support piece in place, strapped the plumbing to it, and filled the cavity with insulation. Since it was near plumbing, I probably overkilled by using Kreg's Blue-Kote WR Pocket Screws. These 2 1/2" #8 coarse thread, washer head screws have a weather resistant coating, so why not?
I had to trim the next piece of siding for both width and height. In one of the more ridiculous moments of the day, I had to stick part of my arm out of the shadow and into direct sunlight.
Ridiculous!
A full 8 feet of straight edge got clamped down as a saw guide to cut the siding board to size. Unfortunately, I had a little wobble midway as I baby-crawled along at the side of the pool and messed up my cut. Luckily, the vertical batten will cover it when I trim out, but still, uncool. I remember a recent post over on my blogging buddy Jeff Patterson's Home Repair Tutor site on breaking down sheet goods. I'm convinced I want to add the Kreg Rip-Cut he used to my arsonal. Jeff, I too want to start "Cutting Plywood and Breaking Down Sheet Goods like a BOSS!! " Next time perhaps.
Crawling, like a baby,... a baby with high-speed, carbide-tipped power tool.
This next part had been worrying me for days as I mulled it over in my mind. I had one sheet of siding cut to fit and I had to punch two holes in it for the new water lines. If I was off by less than an inch on either of them it would be a serious miss. The whole sheet would be wasted or I'd have to come up with some sort of half-assed, ugly MacGyver'd solution to hide it.
I measured the heck out of it, pulling repeated dimensions from the top, bottom, left, right, a cactus, two palm trees. lunar shadows, sea-level, and a passing airliner. I transferred the measurements to the center points of where the pipes should be, muttered a prayer to the gods of DIY, and plunged in with a spade bit.
"oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please..."
There was no way to use my Wonderbar leverage trick on this one; I had to resort to an ancient technique called "man handling" to get the sheet into place. I can't really teach you the technique here because I can't spell the grunting sounds required. I probably shouldn't spell the muttered curse words either. I'll let the photos tell the tale.
I'm not sexist. Ladies can "manhandle" too. It may just take extra cursing.
Luckily, the stars aligned and the neighborhood airspace was spared the howls of rage that were inevitably going to be torn from my throat. The piece fit. Perfectly.
I was never worried.
honest
I love it when a plan comes together.
- John "Hannibal" Smith, Colonel. The A-Team
It was easier to nail up since the plumbing held it in place. Back with the reciprocating saw again, I cut out the rest of the opening.
A moment's pause please, if I may.
Between us, is it ok if I stop fighting the urge to call a reciprocating saw a "Sawzall". I'm using a sweet DeWalt brand saw and "Sawzall" is Milwaukee's term for its line, but dang it's a good one. Milwaukee wins. I just want to use the term it generically. It's like Johnson & Johnson's "Band-Aids" instead of "individually-packaged, perforated, personal adhesive strip bandages".
Come on, everyone just calls 'em sawzalls don't they? Can I just drop the whole pretense of being correct because I'm a "knowledgeable blogger",.. or because I "know what I'm talking about"...? I won't even capitalize it...
Back with the reciprocating saw sawzall again, I cut out the rest of the opening.
"..'cause I'm saaaaaw-zallin', ..yeah, I'm saaaaaw-zallin' "
- Tom Petty
This post is getting long already, and it got way too hot to keep going.