Over last week Martin impressed me to no end, not with weights or cars or prowess of the (narrow, historic, Roman/killing animals) celebrated variety, but with the myopic scrawling of figures and jotting of numbers. I swooned watching him at work with a ruler and pencil. These are gifts of which I have none. Rulers make me hyperventilate and only recently did I approve the existence of levels with their self-satisfied, inflexible water bubbles. And the endless scrawling of straight lines and minuscule numbers almost sends me into active labor.
But our shelves are up, all except one, and our kitchen seems to be enjoying itself. I will post pictures of this amazing feat--and amazing it was, in our 100-year old house with its oddly placed studs (narrow, horizontal instead of vertical), a weird wall partially wallboard/plaster/masonry, and my dreams of cup hooks and everything simple but happily in its right place. (Imagine tea cups staggered perfectly, hanging smugly on their own hooks).
Martin conquered all. Occasionally I admit to his genius. This is one of those times.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Maybe my nephew has missed his true calling.
Being the son of an engineer, and the grandson of two Master Carpenters and builders I am well familiar with precision.
No one wanted to work on my Old Man's crew. He was a stickler for detail, and would accept nothing but perfection on the surveys and construction jobs he oversaw.
But his work was perfect, and never had to be re-done.
It is amazing what we men can do when we finally have our own place.
Responsibility and being the "go to guy" brings out the best in us.
Way to go Nephew!
Post a Comment