This monstrousity is what I'll be throwing myself into later today, while Janine's lungs try to hold her encroaching brochitis to the upper chest area, and I try to keep from falling prey to what has been my pulmonary kryptonite. On your right, you'll see the top and floor plates of the frame I've been trying to make level for far too long now. In the front of the house, the original ceiling joists were removed by a previous owner in the interests of achieving a grand cathedral ceiling (while sacrificing the entire master bedroom). The ceiling was later replaced by Oscar, a renovator who may or may not have been responsible for the unholy firetrap this place was made into -- a famously dangerous breaker box and wiring strung above the drop ceiling like streamers on a Borg ship. I actually met Oscar unexpectedly in a greasy spoon down the street, but didn't ask him whether the crappy overhaul was his doing. I guess the best I could have hoped for was his saying, "Why yes, asshole, it was. And yoooooou bought it!"
Anyway, trying to level out the framing across the entire north wall, between the "new" 2 × 8 board ceiling and the vintage 1890 has been a colossal headache, but I hope finish the job (well enough) today, and maybe start toenailing in some studs. Like Tim Russert always says, "If it's Saturday, it's rabid frustration." Y'know, 'cause Sunday's Meet the Press.