As it turned out, my plans of Friday afternoon (early) escape were thwarted when the workload kicked up (and I learned a coworker would be out all next week, leaving me to hold the bag). It was 3:35 when I finally got a breather and realized that the transfer station closes at 4. No way I could make it back to the apt, hitch up the trailer, do something about the flat tire (tandem axles), and make it down there. Plus it's the city. You think anyone was going to stick around till 4 on a beautiful Friday afternoon? I didn't count on it.
So…I toiled a while longer, stopped of for some spray paint and hardware, headed home to change, and spent the evening at the lodge working on the clerestory soffits. This involved further plywood cutting, edge painting, alignment on the roof and lots of pilot holes, leaving only a 4' section for Saturday. Turned out to be a gorgous evening, but by the time the sun was starting to set, I was beat. Managed some interior work as well and called it a night.
Things were simply all-around grand, so after a power-shower I fired up the 3-disc set of Seven Years in Tibet (Cara opted out after disc 1, having to work the next morning, but enjoyed it none-the-less) and had a few beverages and relaxed for once. Never saw the movie before but enjoyed it for what it was. Got to bed shortly after midnight and sweltered in the heat. A HUGE storm rolled through shortly before the bars were getting out. This wouldn't have been an issue except for the thunderclap that woke me wide-up and set me forth to running around closing windows and watching trees shake san-andreas-fault style. Also: the power went out wiping out Cara's alarm and killing the much needed fan. Drunk college kids without A/C and finding themselves tossed out into the rain from the local establishments find other things to do at 2AM. Like pull out the slip-n-slide. LOUDLY. T'was not my favorite moment of the evening, and I lied awake contemplating ways to seek my half-grogg'd revenge (and concern about the french drain taking on potential bucket-fulls of mud). At least the heat helped take my mind off the noise. Still worth it? Yes.
Saturday, though, was a grand time. Managed to get air in the trailer tire, hauled the load of (now soggy) drywall scrap to the transfer station, waited in line, weighed-in, and backed the load into the building. Not that I had any real alternatives, but wet sheetrock weighs a lot more than dry-sheetrock. The city charges by the pound. I unloaded 720 pounds of nasty, busted-up, mildewy sheetrock with my bare hands. Then gladly paid a 20 for the privilege to do so . On the other hand the weather was gorgeous and I spent the day at the lodge tackling a slew of items on the punch list. Everything from finishing the soffit, to electrical, to painting, to even mudding and taping the kitchen drywall. Even had one of those end-of-day, "that's so cool", moments that require you to sit down and soak it in. Home -> The Library -> Inevitable collapse on bed. Awoken at 4:50AM by a knock on the door and the strong suspicion the neighbor across the hall was now in the attic above us. Cripes. While he was snooping up there I should've gone across the hall to his place (door left wide open) and messed with his head. But I had more pressing issues. Like sleep.
Which was needed for Sunday's onslaught of manual labor. Though I talked the parent's and Cara into lending a hand. Brought the riding mower out there to tackle a couple acres of impressive weeds (only mild success). While Cara and my mom scooped rock from the french drain to sift and wash at the hydrant. Meanwhile, I was doing the shovel work, scalping back the earth along the drain bed to keep the next uber-storm from washing any dirt into the rock. Not the easiest work in the world, especially when I hit clay. In between that, I knocked out some construction work too, and assisted in running loads of rock and dirt to and fro. Eventually, the sun and labor had taken its toll on us all, and after umpteen runs of dirt-filled buckets and barrows, and shoveling from everyone, we called it a day. Redemption courtesy Four Queens and Godfather's.
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