The framing continues...

Well, despite having to tend to a flu-stricken War Department, I did manage to get some more framing done last night. It's not that impressive (though it was a little tricky in some places):



(And yes, the supervisor kitty says it passed his rigorous inspection.)

Almost done that wall, actually. I wanted to put a couple more studs in before I called it a night, but the sawing and hammering (directly underneath our bedroom) was giving Amy a migraine. Oh, and while we're on the subject of making a lot of noise, can I just say that I'm really starting to hate tapcons? Out of the three tapcons I had to put in last night, I broke two off inside the concrete, had to drill two extra holes, and destroyed yet another drill bit, necessitating yet another a trip to Home Despot five minutes before closing. Stupid things - I'm really not looking forward to putting down the subfloor with them.

But it wouldn't be right to post just one picture and leave all my loyal fans (ha!) hanging, so I figured now might be a good time to take you on a little photo tour of the workspace.

First up, a couple of pictures showing what happens when you buy two-by-fours in eight foot lengths for a basement with a seven foot ceiling. I try to keep the remnants into two piles. The first pile contains any pieces long enough to still be of use for braces:



The second pile I just call kindling:



So, remember when you were a teenager, and your room was really messy, and you told your mom not to clean it because you still knew where everything was and you didn't want her messing up your system?

Yeah? Wasn't that, like, the biggest frikking lie ever?



That's the workbench. Yes, it always looks like that. No, I don't really know where everything is. I just stick my hands into the pile and hope I find whatever it is I'm looking for before the pointy bits start to really hurt.

Next up is the sole source of entertainment available in the basement, the World's Crappiest Radio:



Don't let the labels or CD-shaped door in the top fool you. Only the radio works, and even that sucks. Well, to be fair, a lot of the suckage is the fault of the crappy radio stations in Victoria, but even if they were better, the radio itself would still be a piece of shit.

And finally, here we have the floor drain in the laundry room:



You may be wondering why the cover for the floor drain is sitting on the floor beside the drain rather than, as its intended purpose and indeed its very name would suggest, covering the floor drain, Well, because we have cats.

The supervisor kitty has decided that the most important thing in the world is whatever is in that drain. Not that there's anything in the drain beside the little valve thingy, but he's convinced that it's mightly important that he be able to inspect that drain at all times.

For example, when I finished up last night, I put the drain cover back in place, and put a laundry basket over the drain. On my way up the stairs, I passed the cat coming down. I hadn't even taken my shoes off before he had the basket out of the way, and was working on the drain. I heard the clatter of the metal cover on the concrete floor before I made it halfway down the stairs again.

Brain the size of a walnut. Remarkable.

Anyway, with a little luck, I might finish the framing this weekend! Wouldn't that be sweet?