Unintended consequences

The chimney wasn’t so good.

It was failing structurally, and someone had made a half-hearted attempt to splint it back into soundness with a couple blocks of wood, screw hooks, and a turnbuckle.  It was also on the small side — only 16 inches square, but was supporting large hearths above — and the house was sagging around it.

There was also a question of respect.  I make no claims at knowing the electrical code, but I’m pretty sure it’s not recommended to run wires down the center of a chimney.

Given all thie, the clients asked us to remove it, shore up the house around it, and replace the non-functional fireplaces with something more user-friendly.

While the weather was still reasonably good, we started taking down the chimney above the roofline and in in the attic.

The old thing gave minimal resistance, with nearly all of the mortar gone from the joints.

And we added a rafter to make the roof sound in the chimney’s absence.

After we patched the roof, we were feeling good about the job — no leaks, no mess, no accidents.  And then I got the call:  The homeowner said that she had been putting her 3-year-old daughter to bed, and she kept asking “when’s Milton putting back the chimney?”  Her mom told her that we would be back after the holidays to continue the work, but her daughter kept insisting “but he’s gonna put the chimney back, right?”  After Mom made a couple more confused attempts to explain the nature of construction schedules, her daughter blurted out, “How’s Santa going to get in?!”  Oops.