Construction, part deux

I now know how to makes shelves. I now also know how not to make shelves. I will probably never want to make my own shelves again. But that could just be the incredible weariness talking. If you didn't read yesterday's blog, lemme see if I can put a link to it here: http://3mmaryquitecontrary.blogspot.com/2012_03_01_archive.html I know there's a nicer way to do it, but I don't know how.

Anyway, the adventure continued today. John said that he'd be ready to start working at 9:00 AM. Since he usually gets up at 10:00, I wasn't holding my breath. We started at 11:00 or thereabouts. Yesterday, when he was tired, he decided that we shouldn't make two shelves, each 3x6. That would require more cutting than he wanted to do, so he said a single shelf measuring 6x6 would be fine. Today, once again feeling energetic, he announced that we really had to make two shelves, because one big one would be too heavy to move around. I tried to say "fine" without a tone.

The winds are blowing today. Offshore winds with gusts around 20 mph. I was afraid John would say we couldn't work on the shelves because of the wind, and he did seem to think about it when he got outside and noticed them, but he likely didn't want to deal with my pouty face if he put it off. I started off all bundled up (I don't care if the rest of the country has "real" winter weather, 60 with a wind chill of 50-55 is cold to me.), with a long-sleeved shirt, a denim shirt over that, and a denim jacket on top. Once again I wore my winter gloves. As we worked my jeans kept falling down because they're loose, and between the gloves and all the layers I had on, I couldn't get a grip on the waistband to hike them up. The sun finally warmed me up enough to take off a few layers and be able to pull my pants back where they belonged.

I thought maybe today would be about me watching John put the shelves together. A girl can dream. He had me measure and mark all the uprights so we'd know where to place the supports. Then I had to hold the boards in place as he used a power tool to screw the supports down. It wasn't going well, and hours later I realized that it was due to the screws being the wrong length. He spent hours fighting to get them in, when he had a different size screw all along. I think he forgot.

He would often ask me if the piece we were working on was square. When I'd check and say no he'd say, "It's close enough. This is rough carpentry." Then he'd ask me again. I began chanting silently to myself. Once again he had me move every piece of wood that needed to be moved, and had me lift each section as we finished it to put it aside. There was a lot that happened that I'd think about sharing later (now) but, perhaps blessedly, it's gone from my memory now.

I know that at one point I started daydreaming about what my great-uncle Paul would say if he were looking down from Heaven on the scene taking place on our patio. Paul was a master carpenter.

"Mary Maureen, how on earth did you get yourself involved in such a fool project?" he'd say.

"Help me, Uncle Paul! I didn't know it'd be like this!"

"Girl, if he says 'It's only rough carpentry' one more time, I want you to step aside, because I'm gonna ask the big fella up here to send down a lightning bolt. What's going on there is sacrilege!"

Yesterday, when he'd insisted that one shelf was the way to go, he wanted to cut the top shelf piece 77 inches. I said no, to cut it 78 inches plus, just in case. Today, when those pieces had to be cut in half for the now two shelves, they needed to be 39 inches each. He took credit for cutting them long, and forgot the number 39 three times in the space of two minutes.

I can't even describe what happened when he suddenly decided we needed to use a 2x4 as a diagonal brace across the back. It began with him wanting me to grow two extra hands and ended with the use of clamps when I failed in that endeavor. It also meant yet more cutting, though the winds took the sawdust out to sea, so I didn't have to sweep it up later.

As we neared completion he started talking about me sanding and painting the monstrosities, um, I mean shelves. I told him that was not going to happen. I couldn't even imagine sanding, since every single piece of wood used to make these shelves has an "issue." He pointed out that splinters were likely unless I always used gloves whenever I went to the storage unit. I told him I knew that, and I intended to get duct tape and use that instead of all the work in sanding and painting, or even just sanding. Since he didn't think of the duct tape idea it was automatically not a good one. He's tried to talk me out of it three times already and likely will again until it's a done deal. At that point he'll say something disparaging about it.

He was surprised that I didn't want to take the shelves over to my unit when we finished, at 3:00 this afternoon. I told him that the storage place closes at six or six-thirty, and I don't want to rush this reorganization. About five minutes later he talked about loading the shelves into the truck. I said it'd be better to do that tomorrow, in case he wants to go out tonight. He looked at me blankly. I said, "I'm not going to do this until tomorrow, remember?" It was as if I'd just said it for the first time.

He understood being taken out to eat, though. We went to his favorite place, Coco's, and I'm sure he enjoyed his meal even more because it was my treat. More than the free food, he wanted praise, so I told him how wonderful the shelves were, how perfect they'd be for my purposes, etc. He wanted to know if I was going to take pictures of them to show my friends. How I kept from rolling my eyes, I don't know. I may take pics, but showing off will not be the motivation.

Oh, he did give me a tiny bit of credit for something today. He'd had me put the shelves on their sides, so he could further shore up the whole thing with more screws. When that was done, it needed to be righted. He'd helped with the first one, but with the second he let me lift it by myself. These things are made out of 2x6s, 2x3s and 2x4s. They're 3 feet wide and 6 feet tall and 18 inches deep. They're heavy. I looked at him and said, "Thanks so much for the help," in my most sarcastic tone. He laughed and said, "You did that all by yourself. I wanted to see if you could, and you did." Womenfolk who are strong will always be a source of amazement to John.

I'm thinking of telling him that I'm going to duct tape the masterpieces in the morning before he's up and ready to deliver them to my storage unit. That should keep him from sleeping in. He'll probably get up at dawn and shout at my door that it's time to go -- just to foil an idea that wasn't his. Unless, by the time I tell him my plan, he's convinced himself that duct tape was his idea and a fine one at that.

To be positive again, rather than ungrateful and complaining, I have two shelves and can now reorganize my stuff so I'll be able to get at it with ease. It took two days and a bit of "going to my happy place" in my mind, but it's done and I've learned a new skill in the process.