The glider is a nice place to sit to peel fruit, but not the only place. Many years ago I built an Adirondack chair out of scrap wood for Michael's birthday. It was sturdy, and the kids and I painted it white. The next year we made another, and then a little table to set between them. This makes a nice outdoor living room, and a pleasant place to eat dinner and watch the twilight gather. Frogs and crickets sing their evensong and bats dive in loopy figure eights for bugs. Over the years, though, the paint chipped and some of the boards weakened. The little table rotted completely away, and the chairs slanted dangerously. Before the rains came, Michael got it in his head to fix the chairs, unscrewing the rotting boards and finding fresh wood in the scrap pile to cut to size. I helped him carry out power tools and find boxes of screws. Together we tested each board for rot and shored up weaknesses. We got to reminiscing about the chairs and realized that they are about 15 years old. We briefly considered just scrapping the both of them and buying fresh new chairs, but as we considered, we didn't even stop working on them. They don't exactly match; I made them a year apart with two different patterns downloaded from the internet, two different sets of skills and experience; two different sets of helpers. I can still pick out which one I made first, see how I corrected some mistakes in the second, but made some new ones, too.
|I think about everything|
that's happened since these
chairs were new.
For some reason, Michael brought up the reticulating saw from the basement, instead of taking the boards downstairs to one of the table saws. The reticulating saw is a loud, clumsy thing, a bit wild for my taste. It makes a primitive cut, and so one of the boards in the back of the chair zigs a little, like a Seussian creation. We found some white paint in the basement and watered it down a little, thinning it to a milky whitewash, and then brushed it on.
|Rain in Beauty; Pare in Peace:|