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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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