Hammer and nails
Home » Blog » Judy Sutherland » Hammer and nailsThe causeway is complete—now it's time for the shed. Or 'home', as it shall become. We rejoin Judy and her home-to-be on the hill.
Construction on our 1.6 hectare (four acre) hill continues. With the help of yours truly maneuvering the compactor we have a driveway that is quite negotiable, though somewhat bumpy and susceptible to damage after rain and heavy trucks.
The site is cleared, leveled and prepared for the big shed. Said shed will house vehicles (the warranted, registered and used variety—not the rusted-wreck-type of neighbour’s property), building equipment and materials and a large workshop for whatever projects take the fancy of hubby Jim and I.
And did I mention? Hubby, 80-plus-year-old Mother and I will also live in said shed. Our quarters will be on western end and “very warm and cosy” I am told. I am inclined to believe the man, as sitting in our present home, taking up almost an entire spare bedroom, is a woodfire, factory new, transported from Christchurch—our first-ever purchase from Trade Me. Also occupying the same bedroom are several large pink rolls of fiberglass. Yes, we will be warm and cosy!
I have yet to see a plan of my new temporary home beyond that of a large shed. What has happened to our architect? “Who needs an architect?” says Jim. “It’s only a shed.” So I am to realize over the next ten months or so.
Timber, pipes and poles arrive in amazing quantities. Jim and I spend our spare time laying the profiles (builders’ term for marking the outline with sticks in the ground and bits of string) of the shed and imagining what it will be like to live up here away from the noise of neighbours and city life.
As the machinery arrives on site, I find my job is to observe, take the occasional photo, and “Jude, come and hold this,” or “Judy, pass me that” or “Got the jug on, honey?” Well, I guess it’s not a bad way to spend one’s time—watching men work!
Occasionally I was allowed to actually do something constructive. Like the time I decided I could nail the nailplates to the beams so the men could get on with the heavy jobs of nailing the beams to the poles. Gloves on hands, hammer in hand, hard hat on head (there was work going on above me), I took to the job like an old hand. I maneuvered planks of wood to enable the nailing of aforementioned nailplates, nailed plates appropriately and stacked planks of wood so men could lift to attach to poles above.
Ah, such is the life! After working for half an hour or so (a woman is permitted a late start on a man’s job) I realised it must be morning tea time. Mmm, my arms felt a little heavy, but I kept that to myself. Morning tea over (extended a little as was my “boss’s right”) and back to nailing. Hammer felt a little heavier. Six nails in each plate, turn plank over, six nails in other end, stack plank and make ready for next one … I will not complain … I will complete this pile … I can do this … a little suffering is good for the soul … just one to go … Okay, guys, I’m away to a meeting now. See you later.
Strange that after the meeting I didn’t return to the building site that day.
But I do believe that if one falls off a horse one must get right back on, and, you know, “the hair of the dog” and all that … So next day saw me back on site. Once again, though a little tentatively this time, gloves adorned, planks lined up, nails at the ready, can I pick up that hammer? Can’t be the same hammer—this one is way heavier! Mmm, maybe not … well, let’s just get on with it. My arms will soon come right. Yeah right!
I nailed all the required nails in the two nail plates on one plank. I stacked the plank in a suitable place. I picked up a second plank, took hold of a nail plate and some nails. I lifted the hammer once more and … “Oh, I forgot, I’m meant to be (mutter, mutter, mumble, mumble). Sorry, guys, gotta go; can’t help you any more today…”
I look up now to the roof of the shed and I feel proud that my handwork is on display (if one knows where to look, of course). My arms took a few days to recover from that bout of exercise and 'dead arms' were carefully tendered back to health before a hammer was sought again.
Mon May 25, 2009 @ 09:29 AM
