I am not a handy person.

I’ve been staring at a pile of cull* plywood and 4 foot sections of landscaping posts lying on the floor of my office/guest bedroom/recording space/love bodega for the past two weeks thinking “Now what?”.

Now what, indeed.

I know what I wanted to make out of it, but as a 1/100,000th scale model of the Death Star would take up way too much space in my living room I’m going to try my hand at building a cat tower instead.

Do not poke Happy Fun Ball.

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A cat tower, you say?  What’s that?

Simply put, it’s a tower–for my cats.  My couch and the back of my computer chair have been crying Uncle for a while now and if C.J. and Ophelia (AKA Mittens McMurderface) take to this tower and the scratching post capabilities I’ll be building into it, I may be able to actually buy some decent furniture one day.

Initially, I wanted to build something like this Cat Fortress of Solitude in the hopes that when they take over the world, I will be favored amongst men by our feline overlords.

Kneel before Zod...errr...Whiskers!!!

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However, after a few seconds of deliberation I realized that oh yeah, I’ve never actually built anything more complicated than a couple of raised-bed garden frames which literally just involved nailing eight 2×8 boards into vaguely square-ish shapes.

Building a cat tower involves saws, drills, plywood, posts, braces, screws, rope, carpet and you know, actual skill.  I might as well be building myself a Trojan Rabbit.

Due to having purchased my first real power tools recently, I guess I just assumed that that was all I would really need to become a BAMF (uh, yeah, you’re going to have to Google your own reference link for that…) in the fields of carpentry and general home improvement like my dad.  Apparently this is not genetic?


So for now I’ve scaled back my plans to something more along the lines of the tower below.  I just have to hope that my cats keep me around anyway.

Good night, Matty. Good work. Sleep well. We'll most likely kill you in the morning.

Somebody will still have to clean their litter boxes…right?

*scrap lumber that home improvement stores and lumber yards sell at a deep discount.  Now you know.  And knowing is half the battle.  G.I. JOOOOE!


What would make the best Trojan animal and why?

Do any of you know how to get in touch with Bob Vila?  How about Handy Manny?

17 thoughts on “#ImGonnaNeedMoreDuctTape

  1. My uncle was a guest on an episode of This Old House many, many moons ago, but its doubtful he still has Bob’s cell number. That’s not surprising, since I’m pretty sure they didn’t exist back in the dark ages of 1984. Witch burnings, sure. Cell phones, not as much.

  2. Pingback: #HowISpentMySummerByMattGates « #LifeInHashtags

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