Yesterday I worked in the garage as they pendulummed back and forth all day long. I framed together a lattice for Em's squash plants and two benches that will help surround the fire-pit. The lumber was from the cull pile at Home Depot. The store was as crowded as December 23rd. Everyone else was blinded to the six 4"x4"x12's and the 2"x6"x4'. The blueprints for what lumber I needed rested in my brain like a craving for a favorite meal. When I saw all of that lumber I knew it was heaven sent. I had Kevin, the Home Depot guy, not our cousin, saw it up for me into the right dimensions. When I said, "Can I cut these 4x4s into shorter lengths?" He cut me off in the thought and said, "I can cut them for you." I guess he could tell I'm a soft-school-teacher. I'll bet he would have let dad, the hard-school-teacher, cut those sticks.
The garage has been the perfect place to work. Last week we were going to Oak City to side Dad Chamberlain's barn with long sheets of metal. On the way we accidentally went down a different street and ran into Nancy Sloan's yard-sale. She was retiring her husband's old shop, he was brought back to life by another neighbor a few months ago after he attempted suicide, the wire wheel and the drill press caught my attention. After running around the block for some cash at the house, we came back and picked up a lathe, the drill press, a bench grinder, the wire wheel, a belt sander, a saws-all, a router, pegboards and hangers, a hand plane, a scroll saw, and other nick knacks like an electric staple gun, some metal files, and even a florescent-light ballast. I don't need the tools to do lawn furniture, but I clamped two boards together and used the drill-press to pilot my screw-holes, both at the same time.
Two benches and a little lattice shouldn't take all day, but I had all five kids to take care of. At Home Depot while Kevin was cutting out the 4x4s David discovered the 2x6es tucked under the cart made a new seat. Emmie also seemed to want the seat so when his might overpowered her right she came unglued and squirmed on the floor in a pile of sawdust. "David, what is going on? Figure that out with your sister." Evan, soaked Home Depot in like it was his first time. He wasn't bothered by the saw, dad rounding up his siblings, nor the stop and go of the cart. Maybe all of it caught up to him at the end. He started crying in the checkout. He doesn't cry like most kids. He seems to be holding it back as it slowly rolls out of the corners of his big blue eyes. He's like the boy who is hurt while with the men and realizes for the first time he wants to be one of them, but can't cry.
All day long I feed Evan every two to three hours. It takes over 30 minutes to feed him so I feel like my bow is unstrung. The kids are playing all day long. Nancy has an old box that she has pounded in over a hundred sixteen-penny nails. She calls it her mouse-trap and keeps talking about how all she needs is some cheese on tip of the nails for which some unsuspecting mouse will skewer itself. The box/trap weighs at least five or six pounds. I have to say that I prefer Nancy's hammering and Emeline's tic-tocking to the stationary zombies that watched Netflix hour after hour. Come to think of it, I'd rather they fight about ropes and swings, new seats, and just about anything else which exercises their brains, hearts, spirits, and bodies for something worth fighting for. Like a nest full of healthy baby birds cheapping at their mother for the next inch of their lives.
Em is out hunting for dresses with her Mom and sister. She left before 10:00am and was hopeful to get back in the early afternoon. When she called around 4:00pm she seems distressed because she feels bad that she isn't home yet. I'm secretly elated because I'm working on her Mother's Day presents, but tell her as coolly as I can that she doesn't need to rush. If I didn't have this project I would rather her here on my team. At the end of a day of watching kids I realize I'm anything but a supermom.
There is a small bird, not much bigger than a hummingbird, in our front tree that has a nest. I discovered it while feeding Evan. I had to have the door open because it felt like winter with it closed. Let the bugs come in, but don't let me prolong winter. The mother bird brought food to the babies and they made so much racket that I thought it must have been coming from across the street. However, when she left the begging stopped. It makes me happy that we have a tree that birds want to use to raise their fledglings
