Plywood and insulation are showing up at our house on a daily basis.
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Have you priced plywood and insulation lately? It’s enough to make Bob Villa hang up his hammer.
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But the husband is still determined to install a ceiling and insulate a room that has no heat because he’s bored in retirement.
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I can see no reason for this project.
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Nor any rhyme to his framing technique. What the…. what?
But he’s downstairs all day, every day covering everything in sawdust and making a racket and a mess in the one section of basement that was previously neat and organized. (Read – mine.)
While the rest of the cellar (read – his) still looks like this:
The unnecessary basement ceiling project is moving right along.
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And after the husband didn’t like the look of his zip taped seams?
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He decided to paint the whole thing white. Another completely unnecessary expense and waste of time. Who’s going to see it… the mice?
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Here he is vacuuming cobwebs out of the windows.
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Man with vacuum is such a rare sighting…. I had to get a close up.
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A giant pause was taken when the cables to our satellite tv were reached. This is sacred ground and must be dealt with properly to avoid interruption in service. He’s only seen Rio Bravo, El Dorado and The Sons of Katie Elder 122 times. Wouldn’t want to miss the 123rd showing.
It’s long been a dream of mine to see … no, not Istanbul or Rome, I’m a simple girl. I only want to see the cellar floor again.
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When we moved into this house 20 years ago we had a gloriously empty 2,000 square foot basement… and I had visions of carefully organized storage shelves so our closets would never burst open again. Sadly this never came to fruition because my husband filled it to the brim with crap, clutter, things he didn’t need and will never use stuff in no time flat. And when I say filled, I mean up to the rafters with barely a path from front to rear. I haven’t seen the floor in years.
So when the husband retired a few months ago and had lots of spare time on his hands, I did what any thoughtful wife would do and subtly suggested now would be a good time to go through his mess, useless junk, rubble treasure once and for all.
But as my title says, I should have been careful what I wished for. Because as I suggested, my husband started sifting though his massive piles of detritus below ground.
The problem is…. it all began to float upstairs.
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Now? There’s a World War II poster/map on my den reading chair.
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There are railroad cars on my kitchen counter.
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There are boxes, bags and assorted dreck on my office floor.
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As well as stamps and a broken clock on my auxiliary desk. So basically, it’s everywhere… and I fear for the future of our living space.
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Because if all that makes it’s way upstairs? I may end up sleeping on that newly cleared cellar floor.
🥴
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