It always begins with a stack of lumber and big fat check...

Haunted houses don't require good lumber. In fact, haunted houses prefer the crappy stuff. Since I love to give the haunted house exactly what it likes, I tend to order the cheapest, knottiest, bendiest wood I can find. Without scavenging, the only source for such horrendous timbers is a particular lumber yard in Decatur. Known as #4 lumber, this sorry excuse for building material is not widely carried, so I've ordered at least a hundred eight foot 2x4's from the same place for six years. I get it delivered to my door with a smile, and the price ain't half-bad either. I never thought I'd change.

But this year, I got a bit of trouble. After campaigning for volunteers for almost a week, I finally had enough hands arriving on Wednesday to casually haul 670 timbers up two flights of industrial stairs, but my lumber company calls that morning to tell me my order can't be delivered. It seems that their industrial customers had placed an order, and mine (placed two days earlier) hadn't been assembled yet. They kindly offered to bring it the next day, but that didn't do me much good since I'd be working. Not to mention that I'd be 20-something pairs of hands short for my efforts. I had five hours to either fix the situation, or call everyone in my phone and tell them to not show up.

A lengthy walk of fingers through my local yellow pages wasn't doing much good, but it seems my luck had changed. For twenty cents more per, I could get #3 timbers from another company, and they were close enough to deliver them without stressing their schedule. I was saved! Thank you, City Lumber... you'll be hearing from me next year.

The best part was knowing that I could cancel my order with the old company, and let my dollars do their capitalistic duty by voting off the weakest link. Hooray for money!

Evil mounts its throne...
Spencer and I goofed off on a temporary movie set while we waited for the shipment.

"The new phone book is here! The new phone book is here!"

Ooooh la la, that's a lot of lumber.
Look out, here he comes...

Come to papa... gimme the goods... give it up...
I took a movie, but it's not very interesting.
Why am I posting it? I don't know.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to unfasten this lumber without tin snips.

"Hulk make lever... Hulk snap metal... Hulk recommend backing up..."

A queue of gracious helpers.
A movie of grinning freaks.

Connor was our number one cart driver. Without his help, we'd be lost!

Every time we put some lumber on the cart, we'd get a cheerful, "Thank you!"

Insult to injury... Thanks for the rain!

Matt gets instruction from Connor on how to unload the wood.

Dear God, I'm out of shape.

Sometimes, it's hard not to look at my volunteers and shout, "SUCKERS!"

Abby always loves going to the mill... lots of time to run around.

Too... cute... must... not... pinch... cheeks...

I love how creepy this place looks... It just made for stuff like this.

It's gonna be a good year... a very good year.