So this morning I woke up feeling like
I had been working from 7am until 10pm every day. Which
coincidentally I had. So I drug myself outside to feed the ungrateful
hungry mouths and take the dog out so I could watch him sniff the
same clump of grass for like, five minutes before I went into the
house and latched onto the tea maker like some sort of remora.
A caffeine remora.
Once I felt like a person again we
gathered our shit together and trooped on outside to put this damn
thing together. At first it went pretty well. We took the back and
the top, which I was calling the roof piece and hinged them together
by laying them down on the sawhorses we had made and getting all
crazy with it. Other then having to allow for some warping on the
frames themselves, it was pretty easy.
Then we took the back with the top
still folded all neatly in and I held it up while Scott hinged it to
a board which he then bolted to the deck. So basically I just stood
there and held the thing upright and thought about lunch while he did
most of the work. Which of course left me totally unprepared for
round two, putting the big front door on. Because this whole thing
hinges together. So when you take the back, which pivots, and the top
which pivots, and try to hold them at the correct angle for the front
attachment by yourself with no end cap pieces on, everything goes
straight down the pooper.
For one thing, plastic on plastic is
slippery as shit. And of course we hadn't thought to, you know,
maybe, put a stop on the front to keep the plastic door piece from
just sliding off the front like the worlds worst carpentry based Slip
N Slide. So I had to stand in front of the whole thing, keeping the
front piece in place with my knees, which by the way were super happy
about that, while holding the angle on the side with my hands, while
the plastic slid everywhere and I pictured setting fire to the whole
world with my mind.
So then we had to do a complicated
dance because Scott needed to get where I was and I had to move which
meant that I had to control everything by only holding the damn thing
at one end and that was how I ended up injuring my shoulder bursting
into tears, and then yelling about how I couldn't hold this thing
anymore and Scott ran around slapping temporary bracing on the
fucking thing until I could let go of it. Then I went inside and
sobbed into a cup of shitty black tea from the Walmart while Scott
looked stricken and tried to come up with a way to avoid this problem
the next time.
He did not like my suggestion of
burning it to the fucking ground.
Burn it. Burn it all.
|
Now however, we could see the angles
and could cut the end pieces out so that, you know, it would finally
have some support that didn't involve my right arm. Then we made the
end pieces and the bracing for the center, and slapped a coat of
paint on those motherfuckers so that when we came back the next day
all we had to do was bolt that bitch together and call it good.
This thing had better fucking work. |
So after tweaking a few things, and
obviously attaching the last front door we were all like yay we can
move it now! And then it rained like a mofo. Because life that's why.
So there are still a few things we will need to do on site, like
attach the end doors, and replace a few bolts and argue about where
to put it, but other then that it's good to go. It will probably be
set up and ready you know, a week before we have to take it down, but
whatever. Let's roll with them punches.
The plastic shoulder punches.
I like that I learn stuff when I read your blog (and not just how to swear like a sailor). Today, remora and what a solar kiln looks like.
ReplyDeleteIt appears there is A LOT of hinges on that thing! Good luck! :/
ReplyDeleteI've never actually heard of solar kiln before you started this project. What's the timeline for drying a log out in that thing?