The Incompleteness of Being Complete
My basement is finally "complete"*. It was a year+ long project involving my entire family. My brother and father began by putting in studs for a new wall, which my mother and I then built, painted and trimmed. My mom sanded and patched all the exterior walls while etched and painted them with masonry paint**. My grandfather and mother installed new electrical outlets and light fixtures, and I figured out how to hook yet another TV to the exterior antenna. I then painted all the floors, misc posts, and stairs, while doing aerobic poses to reach behind water heaters and dryers. Then I was able to move in!
It's still definitely a basement—cold and full of spiders. But now at least the spiders have pretty art on their walls, TV to watch and a fluffy green rug to curl up in!
*I put complete in air quotes because any homeowner will tell you that no project is ever complete.
** Painting with masonry paint is like painting with clay while walking in a sand storm. It's the worlds thickest paint and it has sand-like particles in it so as you roll it onto the wall, sand bits rain down upon your face. It's like having your eyeballs exfoliated.
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