Ten at a time

Right now, all I can think of is Breakout (or Arkanoid) when I deal with bricks. I dealt with many bricks on Saturday, moving them out of the attic where Andrew had stacked them after deconstructing the chimney. The chimney is now down below the level of the "joists" (I use quotes because to call my ceiling joists "joists" seems awfully generous). Eventually I'll post a humorous picture of the ceiling joists, but until that point, I'm working on becoming less embarrassed by them.

Anyway, here's the leftover chimney with a bit of liner remaining:

I moved the bricks down in a milk crate, nine at a time -- and carried one down with me each trip I made to stack the bricks out back. Here's my ingenious "pulley" system. Again, quotes because the "pulley" is a collar tie. This time there's a cracked-up liner in my bucket.

I also pulled out the last liner visible in the first photo that was above the joist level. I had to break it in half (rather than cut the furnace vent) but you know what? It felt good to destroy. It always does. Despite the dust.

Order to chaos; chaos to order. About 150 bricks stacked behind my house waiting for a purpose. Or Freecycle.