Last week and weekend we finished up framing the ceiling in what used to be the sun porch. Each ceiling joist had to be cut individually, but with me doing the nailing and my spouse cutting and also nailing, we did all right. Saturday we really got quite a lot done, and Sunday we managed to finish it off.
The room actually feels very good. The ceiling will still be low, but it will be fine. Now that the ceiling doesn't slope in that part of the house it feels much bigger.
Sunday we also framed the ceiling, but we ran out of nails. We picked up lumber and new nails and set to work.
So, I get my brackets, my ladder, my hammer, and my nails, and begin my work. The first bracket I bend three of the four nails. Okay, maybe I'm just tired. The next bracked I bend two. Each time I try to remove the bent nails, the heads just pop off and it's up to the magic of vise grips to save the day. Which is fun.
After the fourth bracket, I'm really getting frustrated. I successfully nailed tons of brackets the day before, so what the hell was my problem? Had I suddenly become completely incompetent? (You just be quiet, all you out there in the audience.) I thought there was something wrong with the nails. We take some other nails, the same size but galvanized, and I nail a bracket in with those. No problems. I strongly suspected the nails.
My lovely spouse, in a move of great consideration (and also self-preservation, most likely), got new nails. In fact, he went through all the boxes and only bought the ones that had sturdy-seeming nails.
See the comparison in the head of the nail, as well as nail thickness, below. (Both nails were marked as 10d.)
And here are the wretched, twisty nails that caused me so much frustration. Grrr.
In the end, I'm really happy it was the nails and not me. Even though it still was most likely at least partly me.
It was the nails. And my cat Buddy. Because it is always Buddy.
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