When everything comes together just right...

I have spent today observing a builder at work on a complicated project it takes three instruction books to build.

First you have to cut a whole bunch of boards, then paint them and assemble them.  Everything has to be done to precision and every move is outside my skill set.  I'm learning a lot watching Mike saw, square, drill, screw, and hammer boards.

We have tonight a completed bed all but the outer boards which will give the bed a rustic look.   Just got back from our fifteenth trip to Lowe's, this time to buy a stud finder.  On the way back,we shared a delicious burger and milk shake at E-Zs.

"Man, we're lucky!" Mike says, every time a piece fits precisely as planned.  "We did it just right."

I like the use of the word, We.  All I do is hand him screws and tools, hold boards, and paint.

Someone asked me recently, "Can't you just buy a bed?"  But in Mike's culture--and mine--making things is part of the pleasure of having things.  He and his dad built cars; Carlene made every garment  I ever wore, birth to bride.

I remember my parents making and altering things to fit certain spaces, upholstering furniture, and painting rooms.  We never hired people to do what we could do ourselves.

Building a bed, installing an air conditioner, and painting an old refrigerator yellow--this is our Fiesta event for the week.