Last Monday with honors, I received my first for reals construction experience badge! Even though there was no time to go jogging, which has been my wonderful, stress-reducing morning routine for a while now, I was ecstatic! I was at ease, I was actually looking forward to the clunky noises because it meant it was all happening! We were starting off the week with a 3.5 year "to do" come to light; stoked over the moon, I tells ya.
The original plan was for a family friend, who is also a contractor, to cut back part of an overhang before our new black metal \m/ roof goes on. It was part aesthetics, part structural. At the same time, the roofers were supposed to lop off the unkempt, crusty hair that had seen one too many nights out. But a few hours into the overhang work, I found out they wouldn't be partying with us that day.
drats.
Maybe it was for the best. John could work uninterrupted and truly prepare a great new accessory for her future metal \m/ outfit. It was loud, although not an immense amount of work, so it was a solid introduction for something I'd never been through. I could handle the rest of the job like a champ.
Tuesday, 6am:
I peacefully jogged a couple miles, prepared the crews' ice water, then got the entire family ready for puppy park play.
Tuesday, 7am arrived outta nowhere:
The previous days' positive wafty feeling was still lingering, just starting to burn off like a post rain. Even had that familiar sweet & slightly tart smell, thanks to the "hasn't been exposed in nearly 30 years" wood. As the Clark trio headed towards the door, I optimistically envisioned Day 2 would be very similar to the events of Day 1; I mean how could it be much different? But the front door knock changed that: the loppers were here.
Whether it was the earlier than expected arrival time or it being someone we didn't know, I put a roll of quarters into the anxious machine and hit jackpot. There was no introduction, no hey this is my crew for today, it was a blunt can you move your car so the big ass truck can back in. What happened to the me from yesterday? What happened to my tough guy exterior who was looking forward to this? Did that mean I had to give my badge back?
I did as requested, still trying to figure out why all these emotions were suddenly flaring up. After moving the car and going back inside to see Travis, we agreed I would take Leroy to the park and he would stay in case the guys needed anything. Plus make breakfast, which was super sweet.
While the lopping crew got straight to work and they became prospectively smaller to my rear, I ran through various scenarios for why the change of heart. I wanted them there, but felt tense. I trusted the company we hired, but felt inundated. why? The only word I kept visualizing was personal. I tried to shake it off while at the park because I didn't want to ignore our friends or become distracted from Leroy. But it kept plucking at my nerve core. Could I handle this?
Construction is a very personal experience. I realized this even before we finalized the purchase of the house, although I had no context for what it meant at the time. When the sellers brought in people to complete a list of repairs, I kinda jokey / kinda seriously thought this is ours now and I don't know you. please leave, dudes. I remember standing in the kitchen watching them work outside. Not even inside! and thinking well shit, this is new. Then they left and all was right again.
And when the occasional minor upkeep is needed, say a plumber, we choose who is allowed over. We're initiating the contact, not a faceless voice behind a desk. So it's like we've already gone through the mental checking of the short term relationship and agreed (fingers crossed) it works out.
Later in the day:
I was still adjusting to the barrage of everything, when I noticed we'd forgotten to move some vegetable pots in the back. The peppers & basil had been doing so well, the last thing should be for them to get damaged because of this crumbly, old hag. As I was dragging them to safety, some being way heavier than others, a crew fella standing above me near a pile of busted tiles offered to help. I smiled & declined because I was nearly done, but almost instantly the edge of the past few hours began to recede.
~~~~~
Here we are:
Therapy has illustrated connections are very important to me, even associative ones. And since exchanging vegetable-eyes, there has been no remnants for what I experienced that Tuesday morning. I can't convey how rad it is without sounding repetitive, so trust me. There was even a crew change and STILL the delight of the new metal \m/ roof supersedes.
I'm fascinated, in theory, that a simple introduction, interaction between two humans is all it takes to secure the bond between client and doer? I guess it does for lady Clark because I can breathe a little lighter these days...
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