The impersistence of memory

In preparation for the final assembly of the house, I decided to check that everything in the basement was finished and I could glue on the roof. I knew I had to fix lights in the rear corridor, since I am now definitely giving up on conventional lights. But that should only take a couple of hours.

How unreliable is memory! How great wishful thinking. I was genuinely convinced that the basement was finished before I moved it, but thinking back logically, of course I moved it because we were expecting guests - oh dear, two months ago! - and I had to clear the dining room table no matter what. Then I put the main house on top of the basement and have been working on it ever since, while the basement, as I see now, still needs a lot of work. Just look at it: things fixed with white tack, no mouldings, shelves still to put up on walls. How could I forget?

So today is the back-to-basement day. And since the basement is now on the floor and there is no way I am taking it back to the dining room table, the working position is not the most comfortable. I still prefer working on flat surfaces, so I unhinged the front walls and inserted nails to hang things on. In the unlikely case you don't know how to hammer tiny nails without crushing your fingers, here are two tricks.

Then it turned out that the skirting boards I have are ten centimeters shorter than the front. I haven't found a solution to it yet. Two pieces of skirting will look untidy. I have tried to make my own from card, but I am not happy with them either. I think I will need to buy 1:1 skirting.

In my desperation, I turned to skirting inside the rooms, for which I inescapably need to go down on my knees, and I can only do it for a short while. But what a difference it makes with moulding!

 

My drill ran out of juice as I was making holes for more nails and hooks. It is charging now. Perhaps I should call it a day.