Tag Archives: cellar

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Back at it.

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After an almost two week hiatus from working in the crap cave cellar… for reasons that will be discussed later….the husband was back on track.

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The far right corner was complete so the ceiling work started moving outward.

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I was called in to help numerous times because the price of plywood went up again and my spouse switched from the higher grade to the rougher stuff which was much harder to work with. Imagine if you will…. me, with my bad knee climbing on the step stool and trying to hold a sheet of wood in place over my head.

It was not a pretty sight. Nor a quiet one. I never realized there were so many colorful ways to say hurry up before I was roped in to helping.

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In between curses, I checked out his treasure. An old Bell and Howell movie projector, those horrible figural whisky bottles people used to collect in the ‘70s, a rather nice Italian pepper grinder and another rooster.

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Skeeter Skoot? I can only imagine the horrible chemicals they wanted us to spray ourselves with then back then.

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And finally… it looks like my husband will be giving classes on junk collecting. Reserve your seat now, it’s sure to be a popular seminar.

🥴

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They never take long to fill.

36 Comments

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My still bored by retirement husband was back in the underground den of detritus yesterday stacking crap on his newly constructed shelves.

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It shouldn’t surprise you to learn they didn’t take long to fill.

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We now have slightly more organized floor to ceiling crap. Among the treasure?

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Mildew covered high tech.

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An ancient rusted fire extinguisher.

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And a box of money… which if I had known was down there, I would have cashed in years ago..

🤣

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I don’t know how he stands it.

34 Comments

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Work continues in the underground crap filled cave basement, one small section at a time because my husband is still miserably bored by retirement.

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He clears and cleans a few square feet..

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Having moved all the cobwebbed clutter that resided there…

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Behind him to the section he previously cleared, insulated and ceiling’d. (That’s the past tense of ‘put up a ceiling’ in case you were wondering.)

He’s shuffled more useless junk around in the past month than Fred Sanford did in his 6 year television series run.

To be honest it drives the OCD part of me a little nuts. Now would be the perfect time to sort, clean, and organize… but he won’t. No matter how many times I suggest it or offer to help. It will be so much more work to do it later, but the man cannot multi task to save his life. The last time I brought up the subject? He snapped at me and said “One thing at a time!”

So he’s down there now, alone. Having turned the corner on the front wall…

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With all that still in front of him.

I don’t know how he stands it. I really don’t.

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Necessity is the mother of invention.

30 Comments

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Since we’ve established my husband doesn’t want me to lend a hand in the basement, alternative helpmates must be employed.

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Meet the Dead Man.. otherwise known as my husband’s personal assistant. Since my spouse can’t lift, position and hold a piece of plywood over his head while screwing it into the floor joists, he built himself a friend. One who doesn’t offer advice or disagree with him like I do.

And speaking of holding things in place….

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When the old insulation is ripped and starts to sag?

Grab a broom.

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And balance that broom on a box, which is balanced on a few old books, which are top of another box which is on a table not meant to support that much weight.

Good times.

🤣

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Onward and upward.

32 Comments

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Props to my husband for not only sticking with his horrible basement project but becoming totally obsessed by it. Clearing, cleaning and organizing ( not really, but he’s trying ) 40 years worth of junk is not for the faint hearted. Or the asthmatic… the dust and cobwebs are epic.

When last I reported, shelves were being built on the back right wall and corners were being turned.

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So now that ⬆️…

Looks like this ⬇️ …

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Because every time he carves out a small area to work…

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Thousands of pounds of junk stuff must be moved.

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Anyone need a tv antenna or an old bottle of Clorox? It’s still half full.

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Four vintage wooden crates were unearthed… but none of them were alcohol related for my vinyl collection damn it.

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This is a serious amount of work. And while I try to go down and help, more often than not the husband gets aggravated with me and tells me to get lost.

If 39 years of marriage has taught us anything, it’s that we don’t work well together. I’m a very organized person ….. I plan, I make lists, I gather needed tools and supplies, I have everything I need within reach. He wings it… no plan, always searching for tools and has to run to the store every other day for more supplies. Basically, we drive each other crazy and end up doing our projects by ourselves. Harder, yes. But it keeps us out of divorce court.

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It’s a good thing I don’t use that freezer or second refrigerator anymore.

🤣

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Turning a corner.

32 Comments

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Shelves are being built in the cluttered dungeon cellar.

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And a corner is being turned.

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Even if it is with bits and pieces.

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On the wall to the right?

This.

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I’d like to tell you my husband fishes.

I really would.

And once the corner is turned?

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Floor to ceiling useless piles of nonsense stuff.

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Anyone need an early 18th century Acadian child’s trundle bed on wheels?

No, the Maine State Museum didn’t either.

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A bright spot in the dark.

21 Comments

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Work continues underground… and in the far reaches of our dark as a crap filled tomb cellar, there is light.

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And a small amount of open space with freshly swept floors, insulated walls and a new white ceiling. There are also shelves…

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Though the construction of said shelves leaves a bit to be desired.

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After seeing this one start to sag, I highly recommended brackets. Whether my suggestion will be implemented or ignored is up for debate.

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Heating ducts have been wrapped with insulation as well….

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Though it looks like things went a little haywire here.

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I have no explanation for this puzzled looking chicken. You’d think it was mine, but oddly enough… it’s not.

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The good, the bad and the really ugly.

34 Comments

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The good …

A miracle is currently taking place below Casa River. And though I never thought I’d say it… I’m now glad my bored by retirement husband is fully engaged in a project.

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After insulating the walls and putting an unnecessary ceiling in my small section of the cellar, he moved on to the cluttered with useless crap main section of the nightmare that is our basement, and this is where the miracle happened.

Look!

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Bare basement floor! I haven’t seen that since we moved to this house two decades ago.

And what used to look like this:

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Now looks like this.

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Be still my heart.

His plan is to insulate all the exterior walls and put a ceiling throughout the whole cellar, which is a massive undertaking considering there’s nearly 40 years worth of accumulated junk in the way. Will he get rid of any? He says he wants to have a yard sale… which is a start. But if nothing else, things will be cleaned and hopefully a bit more organized.

Also good…

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The husband built a large shelf in my section for my numerous tubs of holiday decorations.

The bad….

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I couldn’t get down there to photograph it before he cluttered it up with his mess from the section of floor he cleared in the other room.

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Anyone need a 600 pound waffle iron or a Snoopy lunch box?

Also bad…

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See the end of that long dark tunnel? The one you can only access by bending over double and ducking under the sewage pipe? That’s where the husband put all my wrapping paper, bows and from what I can see… Halloween decorations.

😠

And finally, there’s the really ugly. Because under an old moldy blanket?

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There’s an equally old and moldy stereo cabinet from some long lost era. It shouldn’t surprise you to know that I was unaware he even owned this beast. The husband has a habit of sneaking purchases down to the cellar when I’m not home.

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Meanwhile, in the basement…

22 Comments

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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:

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It’s all about priorities.

🥴

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When it rains, it pours.

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(And I sincerely hope it keeps raining today because that’s probably the only way I’m going to be able to take a shower.)

I woke up this morning, slowly and creaking because of my knee. The husband, who’s been underfoot since March … who hardly ever has to visit a client since working from home… left at 7:00am to visit a client.

And that’s when the proverbial waste product collided with the rotating blades.

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I heard a noise.

And since I’m an anal retentive woman, every noise must be investigated. I tracked the noise to our so filled with crap I never go down there anymore cellar. Stairs are not my friend right now, but I hobbled down in pain and discovered it was the water pump.

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(That’s the little blue doohickey to the right for the plumbing challenged among us.)

The water pump was running. For no reason. Cycling on and off every 15 seconds. This is not what you want a water pump to do. So I climbed back upstairs, slowly and with more than a few sound effects, to make sure nothing was turned on, running or leaking. Nothing was. I hobbled outside in the rain to make sure the outdoor faucet wasn’t left on. It wasn’t. Reaching the end of my diagnostic skills, I called our plumber.

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No. That is definitely not me.

Miracle of all miracles he answered the phone and walked me through a few steps to check the problem. The pump is only 5 years old, the heater a mere 3. Nothing seemed to be wrong inside but when he had me go outside and check the well…

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And I looked down inside..

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The cap to our well was crooked and water was positively bubbling out of it. (picture taken later, sorry… no bubbles) ((The bag of sand was my husband’s answer to the well house blowing over in high wind. He might come to regret this quick fix, please stay tuned.))

When I explained what I saw, the plumber told me to run back down to the water pump (which didn’t happen because, ya know… torn meniscus) and shut power off to the water pump, water heater and recirculator. (another waste of money gadget the husband had to have which doesn’t make a bit of difference).

So I shut power off to everything because he thinks one of our pipes has cracked or broken.

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Yeah. Big time. He doesn’t think it’s a pipe in the house, but rather one leading to the house… and that can’t be good.

Thankfully he’s coming this afternoon… so if you’re a person who prays? Please pray to the god of plumbing for a swift and easy fix for your dear friend River. And rest assured if there are any photos worth posting?

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I will.

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