I generally hate basements. I believe it stems from a time in childhood when I had a string of nightmares about being buried alive. Yeah, I know, it's weird...Nice Mom let me watch too many scary moves, or something.
Um, despite that, however, after last weekend's massive clean-up, our new basement is starting to grow on me. It's still a bit dusty, and the stairs are still incredibly steep, as Moe has attested. But, we now have a little "root cellar" cool-dark-type storage for maturing homebrew and canned goods...Sweet Husband has a cozy little work space for making pretty jewelery (and unlike his old space in the spare bedroom, here he can make as much of a mess as he wants!)...and the laundry area has been ridded of spiders and miscellaneous junk. Yay for less-scary basements!