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In case anyone was wondering why I haven’t posted about the husband’s clean up the crap filled cellar project lately, there’s a reason.
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And that reason is him getting bored and dropping it like a hot rock.
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Only a third of the ceiling was completed… and it was at that point I think he realized he was in over his head.
Literally and figuratively.
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So while there are areas you can see the floor….
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It’s still a junk filled nightmare.
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Another area of the crap mausoleum cellar is being cleared in preparation for work and there’s one extremely heavy item in the way.
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This time, I can’t even blame my husband.
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The rather odd looking wood stove was here when we moved in 21 years ago, and here it has stayed. We tried selling it at a yard sale years ago but there were no takers. I’m guessing if we ever sell our house? It will be our parting gift to the new owners as well. Why break tradition.
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Farther along there’s a large pile of tires. Do they… or did they ever…. fit one of our vehicles? No. But they’re resting on a nice fluffy piece of quilt stuffing so at least they’re comfortable.
🥴
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In keeping with the old, rusty, inoperable and weighs a ton theme? Another adding machine.
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Buried in the back.. next to the extra refrigerator we didn’t need but he bought anyway.. is a nice old toboggan. Why? Just because he could.
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Does the husband have a few old Life magazines?
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I’d like to tell you that’s all of them.
I really would.
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Looking back, the far right corner is done.
Not that you can see it through all the junk of course.
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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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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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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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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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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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The husband completed his work on the far left corner of the crap filled dungeon cellar and has now shifted to the far right.
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The ceiling was up…
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And painted…
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And insulation folded into place.
I had to laugh because it was at this point he said, “Looks a lot different without all the stuff here huh?” And yes, technically he’s right … it did look different. But I’d be a lot more thrilled if the stuff migrated out of the cellar and to the dump instead of just shifting over to the newly completed section.
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What’s the point in having a nicely cleaned, insulated, ceiling’d cellar if you can’t actually see it?
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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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I went downstairs to check the progress of the husband’s basement project yesterday and it was not going well.
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Nope. Not well at all.
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I stood unnoticed, chortling while I watched him attempt to wrangle trifold insulation into a corner by himself. It was quite amusing, but I took pity on the poor guy after a few minutes and lent a hand.
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You’ll notice he bought a new toy. After the first low velocity hammer tool wasn’t strong enough.. he upgraded.
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This thing is basically a small gun that fires explosive rounds to propel nails into hard surfaces. In this case, concrete.
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And while my husband is (we never say was) a Marine and familiar with weapons, his usage of this tool made me a little nervous.
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The video doesn’t do justice to the noise. But trust me, that thing is loud.
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And best observed from a safe distance.
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I have to laugh that our entire cellar is a junk filled mess except for this one little corner. But he’s determined to put a ceiling, insulation and shelves throughout so I’m not complaining.
Much. Or within earshot….
😉
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River's world..... 