Technical problems

The compressor that runs the nail guns was running this morning
. . . and running, and running. Which meant that the nail guns weren't, because no one wants to risk the damn thing blowing up.

I won't go into the gory details, but Frank dissected the infernal machine and we eventually found a ruptured supply pipe, which led to a trip for copper tubing, ferrules and the word of the day: nuts.

As Kurt put it, stuff happens (though he used a different word beginning with S.)

But Frank finally pieced it all together and work resumed on the staircase paneling and the closet liners with the pa-wham of nail guns instead of the banging of hammers.

In the meantime, Bob the tile man showed up relatively quietly and began putting the subfloors in the showers.