I left off last post with my newly painted mailbox needing some reinforcement. Honestly, I don't know why it hasn't simply fallen off.
Fortunately it wasn't that big of a deal to rebuild it. I grabbed a piece of wood (easy to grab - the wood supply has now been organized) cut it to size, screwed a bracket on it. Went down to the mailbox, removed the screws holding it on (mostly could just pull them out by hand) Took off the old wood base, attached the new one, and screwed the box back on. And now I have a solid mailbox (I hadn't realized how used I was to the mailbox wobbling every time I opened it.
So, with that diversion done, today I started the repairs on the chicken coop. I reinforced a few areas, and then tackled the weak place I think the raccoons have been getting in - the gap between the coop proper (an ABS toolshed) and the scratch yard. I had pulled the wire off and put in a new crosspiece to replace the old rotted one. I was debating on how to affix new wire securely enough - and decided I wanted to do a solid wood fill instead. That's where I ran into trouble. I could screw in the lower part, but where the upper part needed to go was fairly inaccessible; neither my drill nor my ratcheting screwdriver could fit in there. It had to be a short screwdriver - and my hands aren't strong enough to drive in the screws.
I would almost get it, and then the board would slip (landed on my head once). Much as I think carpenter bees are kind of cute (although they can be destructive) it was a little disconcerting to have them flying around my face. It was hot today; I was sweating. After an hour of trying to get the screws in, my language had gotten rather purple and the tears were leaking through. It was time to quit for awhile.
I could't help but think how it seemed that Bob could do things like this so easily. Partly it was knowledge, partly it was greater strength. But I think the main thing was that he had me. If he needed to switch from the drill that could drive the pilot hole to the one with the screwdriver head, he didn't have to reach for it (or come off the stepladder while still holding a board in place) - he just handed one drill down and had the other put in his hand. He didn't have to try to hold a six-foot board in place while trying to put a screw into one end (one hand for the board, one to hold the drill, one to hold the screw - I seemed to be a hand short). I could hold the board while he fastened it.
I had to cut one of the boards a little shorter. I was using scraps of wood as shims to hold the board at the proper height for the chop saw. Bob didn't have to do that - I would support the board.
So maybe I should cut myself a little slack.
But the language was giving way to frustrated tears, so I put it all away, came inside, and played Sudoku for awhile, and then I went back out and painted for an hour or two so that the day wouldn't be a total waste. I'll rethink how to block off that opening tomorrow.
Meanwhile, the demons are creeping up on me. I'm ready for March to be over. I plan on dealing with the anniversary of losing Bob the same way I did last year, because it was bloody brilliant. I simply quit. I quit pretending I was OK. I quit doing What I Should Do. I laid in a supply of alcohol and junk food and stayed in my pajamas for two days. I've been eyeballing pastries and cakes when I go grocery shopping but it's still too soon. I've got two weeks to go. Hopefully I'll have the chicken coop finished by then. Maybe even start on the next project, whatever that may be. But, soon, I'll have two days to simply stop, and rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment