Sunday, December 11, 2005

 

In Which I Am the One-Legged Man...



DCP_4723

Beard: Day 3




Can't talk just now. Her Lovely Self just left to wrap presents at some...present-wrapping jamboree over at the church. Then she's off to donate some clothes to a women's shelter.

Yesterday I got her to take over 5 loads of brand-new toys (culled from the incredible Basement of Crap and also from my office at work, where we get samples of every consumer item ever produced. I could sent loads of detergent and maxi-pads and lamps too, but I thought the tots would rather have, you know, toys).

Meanwhile, I've been feigning illness. The kids both just had the flu--that special 48-hour brand that leaves you helpless in bed, clutching the TV remote and a bucket--so she'd think I was too sick to go do these philanthropic things myself.

Then, as soon as she'd leave, I'd bolt downstairs to work on this:


greenhouse



Which, so far, is looking like this:



greenhsgreyeball
grgluegreenh1



In other words, the shelves and part of the frame are done. So far my efforts have escaped detection because it's all hidden behind five stacks of boxes in the my quadrant of the basement (who says crap isn't useful).

My dad called briefly and I had him on speakerphone while I worked.

"Well, your mutha made me call," he said. "Hadn't heard from you all week, thought you might be dead or sumpin. What you been up to? By jeezuz, you're busier'n a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest."

And so I filled him in on my week as I screwed and hammered. Like the rest of you, he was thrilled by my adventures as regards my window. Although sober 20 years, he, like some of you, especially lauded my gift of beer to the workers who changed out my pane for free.

"Goddamn good job!" he exclaimed, his glee obvious. "Who taught you to treat the working man like that, anyway?" It was, of course, a rhetorical question.

But that was pretty much all we had time for. I had to ring off because I had to clamp part of the wood frame and wait 24 hours for it to dry. Which meant I now had time to go out and put the last of the nails into my new window trim to secure it to the house.

"Drill yourself some pilot holes first!" my dad called across the miles. "Or mebbe, since you know how to do it now, you might take both the frames out and put 'em some place outta the way before you start hammering."

"What?" I cried. "You think I'm going to accidentally put a hammer through the window or something?!"

"No sir," he said, just before he hung up. "It's just that when you're in a rush, it's easy to make a mistake. Plus," he added, almost apologetically, "I know the kinda luck you tend to have."

So I'm taking the frames out first.

We one-legged men can't take too many chances.

Yours,
From Somewhere on the Masthead


Comments:
Just don't break the frames as you take them out... o_o

Your dad is a trip. "By jeezuz, you're busier'n a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest." :D
 
thats southern for you. :P

I have always like working men, they are not twisting around in words and making things more complicated than it is.

beer,laughther and an honest days work.

thats how life is suppose to be lived.
 
I think your dad / family and my dad / family have the same accent(s).
 
Good beard growth.
 
Pilot holes, MM. What have I been telling you all this time? Pilot holes.
 
Your dad's accent sounds just like the way I make fun of my own dad. Nice beard by the way...I bet that's a little rough for the kissin'. ;)
 
if you're gunna build HLS those there shelves, meebe you outta tink about makin' yous another leg.
 
MM been reading your blogs for almost a year and I enjoy them immensely. I read Sharfa's and then yours. I seem to be very selective (or lazy) as I don't surf the web(logs) anymore and just stick to yours. Hell, I haven't even written in mine in over a month, and my last entry wasn't much. Maybe I am just too busy. But anyway I just wanted to say ... BRAVO!! Carry on.
 
I don't comment as often as I'd like, as I don't want to put off other commenters. But, please, allow me yet another moment to tell you how much I appreciate your writing. Like Stephen King's "The Green Mile", these episodes are a joy to read, and very addictive. So, for me and my wife, please accept our humble thanks for your contribution to the Art in our life.
 
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