Nail Guns and Wives

On a job in sweaty, southern Nevada, I asked my wife (who insisted on tagging along) to hand me my finish-nailer.  She picked it up, and I swear took aim, and pulled the trigger.  A thin nail tumbled through the air as she turned red in the face and blurted apologies (between bursts of laughter).  That moment gave birth to this blog.  Like the saying: If you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day.  If you teach a man to fish you feed him for the rest of his life.  I'm not dishing out fish but hard earned tricks and techniques for getting a job done.  

Lesson one:  Nail gun basics and how not to load it...