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.
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.
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.
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:
Because my husband never likes to rush things he moved around to the back side of the baby barn yesterday to complete the gutter installation…. 12 days after he did the front. Better late than never is his middle name.
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Did things go more smoothly on the flip side?
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They did not.
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Miscalculation on length left him with two short pieces instead of the one long piece he needed which meant yet another trip to Lowes for additional connectors. Sigh.
Was the finished gutter line straight and true?
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Not quite, but it doesn’t leak. That’s probably as much as I can hope for.
And if you’re wondering just how dry it’s been here?
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Dry enough for the husband to a pan under the downspout to catch the small amount of rain we got last night.
Please note the green you see is all weeds. Most of the grass is still brown.
With the hope that it will rain on our property sometime in this decade, my husband purchased gutters for our baby barn/shed and I attempted to help with the installation.
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Since the project was my husband’s idea and he was in charge of purchasing supplies, this meant 3 forty minute round trips to Lowes and half the day wasted because he thinks making a list is a waste of time.
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Did he buy the right size screws?
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He did not.
Did he buy the correct downspout brackets?
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He did not.
Did he buy a new section of downspout because the piece he had leftover from a previous project was too short?
There’s always something that needs to be repaired at Casa River, and sometimes that something is the Barn Mahal porch.
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For some reason ( read – crazy Maine weather, massive frost heaves and lack of gutters ) one section of the porch lifted over the years with the result being smashed and then rotted wood under the corner post.
A cousin was called to assist… as there was heavy lifting required and yours truly sucks at that.
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I also suck at not exclaiming WTF! when I go outside to check on the repair progress.
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I doubt that set up was OSHA approved… but it did the job and supported the roof while the post was removed.
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Rotted wood.
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Please note I am not standing on the porch to take pictures.
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Rotted wood replaced….
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Corner post cut and reseated.
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With a hammer, because fine tuning was required.
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And yes, it’s a bit crooked now.
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But my bat was rehung and the roof is still over our heads… so I’m calling it good.
