We now continue our saga of the east gable end.... in which we find our hero, perched atop a board one story off the ground, fitting a wee log into place.
The Husband is very capable and level-headed. He does not usually take unwarranted risks. He is quite good at building things and handling tools and machines. (Heck, he's even considering building a log house! Nah, it'll never happen.) Except for this craziness last winter, I'm usually not up for a nasty surprise when I visit The Lake and witness the miracle of logs.
So, you can imagine my discomfiture when I was a journalistic party to this scene on Friday:
"Too tight! Johnny, where's the chainsaw?"
"And the angle's a little wrong, too...."
"Eeeeeeeeeek!!" (That was me.) Oh, I'm sorry, did you need some perspective on this scene to be as horrified as I was?
Shaving a log with a chainsaw 14 feet IN THE AIR. *Thump* (That was me. Knocking my head on a stump as I fainted.)
4 comments:
OMG! Did you REALLY faint? I think I'd have been as agast as you were. Scary stuff.
I don't blame you at all. My husband isn't as handy as yours, but he still comes up with some wild ideas.
No, I didn't really faint, but I did get that throbbing vein in my forehead and swallow hard a couple of times! It's best if I don't *actually* observe them working on the house, I've decided. Kind of like sausage. (you don't want to know how it's made!)
Bob? Did you WANT to give your lovely wife a heart attack?!!?!!! No apple pie for you!
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