Inspecting the goods
The wood is here!
When the truck arrived with the entire load banded together in two piles - one for framing lumber and the other for plywood sheathing and flooring - my first thought was, "That's IT?" I had been picturing the mountains of wood that I'm used to seeing at building sites where houses are going up ... Because in my mind, this thing I'm building is more like a mansion, museum, or mall than a humble 120 square foot shed. Looking at the actual lumber and pier blocks all laid out in formation is very calming, even though they represent many hours of work to come (which also makes me nervous when I think too much about it) - because reality is almost always easier and less scary than the way I see things in my imagination.
The same day the wood was delivered I wrenched my right index finger somehow, and it pretty much put my whole hand out of commission for a week. It's still not 100% better but I'm writing this on the first day of a 10-day vacation with my family so I'm hoping by the time I get back it'll be healed enough to get back to work. It was distressing to realize how completely such a small injury could derail my plans; for the first time it occurred to me that someday I'll be old enough that injuries like this will Not heal in a couple of weeks, and in fact a simple injury could turn into a permanent disability that will prevent me from ever again being able to just decide to do something, and then do it.
Not to be morbid! And I guess permanent injury is always a possibility. I just was grateful to be reminded so early in the process to take my time and work safely - and also, that there's no time like the present to DO some of the things I've been daydreaming about for so long.
Building something isn't that different from thinking about building it, in some ways. I do tend to think things through maybe more than they need to be, but in the end I have to say I've been pretty satisfied with almost everything I've ever made, from chicken coops, fences and rose arbors to hats, dresses and jars of jam. A few years ago I re-acquired a dress I sewed for myself in about 1986 and later gave to a friend, who kept it around for over 20 years and then gave it back. It's not something I would wear again now so I was looking at it to see if I could take it apart and make something else with the fabric - and was really surprised and pleased to see how well designed and well made it was, down to the smallest details, even on the inside, where nobody would even see. It made me happy to think of the girl (me) who was young enough to be my daughter now, if I'd had a daughter, taking that kind of care with something as humble and utilitarian as a simple cotton sun dress.
I hope I can build this barn to a similar standard. I intend to, anyway. Maybe that's why I've been so slow really getting rolling on it, and why it keeps growing into such a behemoth in my mind. On the one hand, it's not all that different from other things I've built - it isn't "Fine Homebuilding" and I'm not planning anything especially fancy in the design or materials. On the other hand, it's bigger, more complex, and more expensive than anything else I've ever tried to make, so there's more opportunity to make mistakes that will be costly or even impossible to fix.
Augh! See how my brain does its thing?
It's Just A Shed. That's the magical phrase I keep coming back to. Just a shed. One thing at a time. Totally doable.
A nice byproduct of the process - not unexpected but also not guaranteed - is that building something together with Mr. A is turning out to be fun and challenging, in a good way, and really strengthening for our relationship, friendship, and partnership. He has a lot of technical knowledge of materials and processes (remember my first pseudonym for him in this silly online chronicle was "the engineer"), and he's also a safety freak, which is always a plus when you're using sharp heavy dangerous tools all day long in the hideous heat.
I contribute insight, oversight, patience, perspective, perfectionism, persistence, and a sense of calm. These are all good things, I think. We are learning a lot from each other and I'm grateful we've come to a place in our relationship where I feel like we're finally able to really work together. It hasn't always been this way. I always believed that it could be, though. And now we're getting there.
In a few weeks it'll be ten years we've been together.
My plane just landed so I'm off. More soon.
When the truck arrived with the entire load banded together in two piles - one for framing lumber and the other for plywood sheathing and flooring - my first thought was, "That's IT?" I had been picturing the mountains of wood that I'm used to seeing at building sites where houses are going up ... Because in my mind, this thing I'm building is more like a mansion, museum, or mall than a humble 120 square foot shed. Looking at the actual lumber and pier blocks all laid out in formation is very calming, even though they represent many hours of work to come (which also makes me nervous when I think too much about it) - because reality is almost always easier and less scary than the way I see things in my imagination.
The same day the wood was delivered I wrenched my right index finger somehow, and it pretty much put my whole hand out of commission for a week. It's still not 100% better but I'm writing this on the first day of a 10-day vacation with my family so I'm hoping by the time I get back it'll be healed enough to get back to work. It was distressing to realize how completely such a small injury could derail my plans; for the first time it occurred to me that someday I'll be old enough that injuries like this will Not heal in a couple of weeks, and in fact a simple injury could turn into a permanent disability that will prevent me from ever again being able to just decide to do something, and then do it.
Not to be morbid! And I guess permanent injury is always a possibility. I just was grateful to be reminded so early in the process to take my time and work safely - and also, that there's no time like the present to DO some of the things I've been daydreaming about for so long.
Building something isn't that different from thinking about building it, in some ways. I do tend to think things through maybe more than they need to be, but in the end I have to say I've been pretty satisfied with almost everything I've ever made, from chicken coops, fences and rose arbors to hats, dresses and jars of jam. A few years ago I re-acquired a dress I sewed for myself in about 1986 and later gave to a friend, who kept it around for over 20 years and then gave it back. It's not something I would wear again now so I was looking at it to see if I could take it apart and make something else with the fabric - and was really surprised and pleased to see how well designed and well made it was, down to the smallest details, even on the inside, where nobody would even see. It made me happy to think of the girl (me) who was young enough to be my daughter now, if I'd had a daughter, taking that kind of care with something as humble and utilitarian as a simple cotton sun dress.
I hope I can build this barn to a similar standard. I intend to, anyway. Maybe that's why I've been so slow really getting rolling on it, and why it keeps growing into such a behemoth in my mind. On the one hand, it's not all that different from other things I've built - it isn't "Fine Homebuilding" and I'm not planning anything especially fancy in the design or materials. On the other hand, it's bigger, more complex, and more expensive than anything else I've ever tried to make, so there's more opportunity to make mistakes that will be costly or even impossible to fix.
Augh! See how my brain does its thing?
It's Just A Shed. That's the magical phrase I keep coming back to. Just a shed. One thing at a time. Totally doable.
A nice byproduct of the process - not unexpected but also not guaranteed - is that building something together with Mr. A is turning out to be fun and challenging, in a good way, and really strengthening for our relationship, friendship, and partnership. He has a lot of technical knowledge of materials and processes (remember my first pseudonym for him in this silly online chronicle was "the engineer"), and he's also a safety freak, which is always a plus when you're using sharp heavy dangerous tools all day long in the hideous heat.
I contribute insight, oversight, patience, perspective, perfectionism, persistence, and a sense of calm. These are all good things, I think. We are learning a lot from each other and I'm grateful we've come to a place in our relationship where I feel like we're finally able to really work together. It hasn't always been this way. I always believed that it could be, though. And now we're getting there.
In a few weeks it'll be ten years we've been together.
My plane just landed so I'm off. More soon.
