My (Our) Old School

I think if you ever meet anyone that did attend the U of M you will find also, that almost 100% has exceptionally strong and dear memories of the place.  It's kinda hard to describe but Montevallo is one of those magical places that stays with you the rest of your life.  It is a public, liberal arts college and is consistently rated in the Top 50 of all the U.S. universities.  It has, in my opinion, one of the very top undergraduate art programs anywhere.

  I regularly participate in the yearly alumni art auction (to raise money to repair all the crap we tore up when we were there, lol!) and they were also dedicating the long awaited, new art building on campus.  The art department has doubled in size since I was there and they were sorely needing this.  We missed the actual dedication ceremony but did get to tour the building anyway.

One of my nieces is attending Montevallo (her first year), so she met us for lunch and then walked around campus with us for a while to show us all the new stuff.  It had probably been 8 or 9 years since I had been there, so there was lots to see.
My sister also graduated form Montevallo, so it has quite the following in my family.  I am one of the few Alabamians you'll meet that does not root for the Tide or Tigers.  I root for the Falcons, thank you very much. And no, UM does not have a football program.  They actually like to emphasize getting a real education.

This post is going to have a LOT of photos but I'll try not to bore you too badly.
Th photo above is part of the new clay studios.  Absolutely fantastic.

This is just a small part of the sculpture studios which includes just about any type of welding you can imagine.  In fact, Montevallo is where I first learned to weld and then continued my education and certification after being in construction.

I worked for the art department as a shop assistant and one day the sculpture professor gave me the task of labeling the only restroom as unisex, as we tore one out to make more room for work.  Over 24 years later my sign is still there on the door.  I really couldn't believe it. lol!

 Some of the concrete work in the new building left a bit to be desired, especially this wall over on the far right, but overall it is a fantastic new space.  This is the bronze casting area and UM is one of the very few schools in the US that offers such to their undergraduates.  The yellowish-brown thing with the warning sign on it is the foundry where the bronze is melted and the pit in front is where the investments (molds) are buried for pouring.  They bury them in case they burst during the pour.  That way the molten bronze is somewhat contained by the hard tamped sand and does not flow out on the concrete floor, which would be very dangerous.

These are scenes from around the rest of campus.  The old tower that I'm really not sure what it used to be.  Parts of UM date back to the Civil War and this may be something of that era.  I guess I should find out.  Now it houses some offices and the campus chimes.

UM is also fondly remembered for it's cobblestone roads and walkways.  I was pleased to see they had repaired a lot of them because when I was there the quaintness was beginning to be overshadowed by the clunks you heard from your vehicle every time you drove over certain areas!

Me with one of my favorite professors!  He taught printmaking, which was something I really, really sucked at but Professor Stephens has always been one of my biggest fans and owns a fair collection of my work by now.
The professors here are world class, literally, and they demanded the absolute best from every student.  They are not afraid to tell you like it is too and I saw more than one student leave an evaluation or critique in tears.  A lot of people like to joke about art classes being easy; you know, the old "basket-weaving" thing.  I learned real quick that was not the case here.  But we left knowing what it would take to survive as a working artist.

If you know much about UM, you'll know that it is also one of the most haunted places in Alabama, with the King House being at the top of that list.  They used to let visiting scholars stay here but I think one too many nighttime incidences stopped that.  They now put visitors up elsewhere.
There are many, many websites that offer information about the hauntings of UM and THIS is one I found that had a lot of good history and pretty accurate information, at least as far as what I learned when I was there. 

This is actually a bike rack designed and build by the art department.  I'm not sure that the other students know that and use it!

The new gymnasium and athletic department.  UM does have one helluva baseball team.

This is part of the campus lake.  We used to come down here some for picnics and just hanging out and it is within walking distance of campus.

 Me with one of the large sculptures on campus.  This was done by our very well known sculpture professor, Ted Metz, and some of the sculpture students.  I think it took about 3 years to complete.  I was not involved in the making but, since I was in heavy construction, me and Allen went down and set the foundation and later the hands.  The large limestone blocks we set during a very heavy thunderstorm, complete with lightning!  The crane was there with the truck and we really had no choice.  The dollars were ticking on both so we just had to grin and bear it.  It worked out fine though.

This is the road leading up to Flower Hill, the home of the President.  In the spring it lives up to it's name and it really beautiful.

A better view of the hands.

More cobblestone.  The weather was fantastic that day; sunny and about 60F.  We walked everywhere. 

And, lastly, the art auction that ended the day.  All my contributions went for a decent amount (about what they normally retail for or a bit more) so I was happy.

Big Iron

     Aha!!  I bet by now, you all had even forgotten about the "word" posts that I was supposed to be doing!  Uh-huh.  Well, that's okay.  I'll let it slide this time.  I can't blame you because I have been a terrible slacker.  But, I keep the list on my desk so I will get to them all at some point.  Well, anyway....the next word on the list is podger!!  And I would imagine that most of you, like myself, are like, Huh??  What the hell is that?  Leave it up to some smarty pants construction people to come up with something like that...heehee.  The tool of course, I knew, just not by that name.  Down here, we call this a spud wrench.  Podgers, or spud wrenches, are generally carried by ironworkers and used to help erect "red iron".  This is the term we use for the structural steel framework of a building that is usually coated with a red primer, although many times they will use grey.  Red iron just sounds better.  Red iron is welded in places but initially they bolt it together as the crane lifts each piece into place.  As you might can imagine, a 30 foot I-beam swinging from a crane is not incredibly easy to control by a person standing only on an 8 inch wide beam 60 feet in the air.  Suspended in such a manner, the beam actually swings quite easily, but getting the bolt holes to line up just right is time consuming and a good way to mash your fingers off (literally), thus the pointed end on this tool.  It's easy to ram that end through the misaligned holes, as long as they are somewhat together, and as the pointed end is pushed through, it draws the holes in line.  The bolts can then be placed in the other, now aligned holes, the podger removed and that hole bolted.  It's also a great pry bar.  A coordinated ironworker can move pretty fast with one of these.  This particular spud wrench is fairly large (for me) at about 20 inches and it has, as you can see, a fixed open end.  Many spud wrenches are adjustable just like a large Cresent wrench.  I honestly have no idea where I got this one and have rarely used it.  Tools like this were usually supplied to us on the job and as I was not a full-fledged, regular ironworker I did not keep my own.  Allen has an adjustable one that we use more often, as you might imagine.  So, there is your lesson for the day.  Haha!


     I haven't told ya'll a funny work story in some time so I thought this one kinda went with the post.  I don't think I've told this one but if I have just pretend you've never heard it.  In my construction career, I actually worked more as a carpenter probably but did do a fair amount of steel work on our jobs and the last job I did was solely as a welder.  I did hang a little "red iron" but mostly I was there to weld up the structural steel that held pre-cast concrete and stone panels.  As you might also imagine, this is some pretty hefty steel to be able to hold that much
weight.  The steel is also not bolted up but welded directly to steel plates embedded in the underside and edges of the concrete floor slabs.  The vertical pieces were only about 3-4 feet long, and I could handle those myself but the horizontals were very heavy and they would set those for me with a machine.  Well, this was a crap job.  I was supposed to have another welder helping me but that boy never could get his act together and ending up leaving because of an off the job injury.  Even with another welder there was no way I could hang all that steel by myself (also the elevators, handrails and much other misc.) in the time frame they wanted.  I was somewhat flattered in their confidence, or whatever, but no way, no how.  So, they ended up hiring a steel subcontractor to come in and help.  I had the pre-cast on the back of the building and this group of 5 men had the steel on the front.  To be fair, they did have more to hang than me. ha!  Now, for near 20 years, through chance or design, I had worked a great deal by myself.  When I truly needed help I could get it; I never moved a piece a steel that was too much, but if I could handle it myself I preferred it that way.  And, when you work by yourself (whether you're a man or woman), you learn how to move things and hold stuff the smart way because it's not physically possible to manhandle it.  The high art of wedging, cantilevering, prying and clamping come in handy.  So.  I was chugging along the back, hanging my steel like all get out.  I would put a heavy board across the handrails of my lift bucket and then wedge the vertical piece of steel between that board and the embed it welded to.  I had my layout marked on the embeds already so I just tapped the steel with a hammer to get it on spot and to plumb it up.  Magnetic levels are very handy too!  I'd tack that off and then move back, clamp the diagonal brace off to my first piece and just hold the other end until I tacked it.  Easy Peasy.  Double check my plumb and then hard weld everything.  I only needed help after I got all my vertical/ diagonals hung and one of the guys would hold the 30 foot or so horizontal angle up to them with a Lull.  I'd tack weld it on grade, he leave and then I'd finish.  Piece of cake.  So, the new steel crew came out and started on the front.  And this was no rookie crew.  You could tell by looking at them they were seasoned ironworkers.  Well, their first day I came through the building for lunch and I noticed that 3 of those men were crammed into the basket of one man-lift.  Now, that is highly illegal in OSHA's book and our foreman over the steel had a fit when he saw them.  "What in the world are ya'll doing??  Why do you need 3 men in that one spot??"  They stomped and fussed.  "Well, what do you expect??  Got to have one to hold, one to plumb it and one to weld!!!"  Now, Nick, one of our younger foreman at the time, usually goes into a battle of wits unarmed, but the construction gods were kind to him on that day.  An evil, joyous smile quickly spread over his face.   "Well, I'll tell ya'll what..." Nick drawled, barely able to control his glee but trying to feign a serious air. "I got a woman welder around back that's hanging all her steel by herself....I'll go get her to show ya'll how to do it."  Nick said a look of sheer horror came over that steel foreman.  "Hell no! No, no, no!!  Naw, we can figure it out!!  Nick insisted it would be no trouble, that I was a very nice lady and don'tcha know she won't mind a bit but they would have none of it.  Haha!  Imagine that.  I was in the trailer eating lunch with the other guys when Nick came running in to relay the story.  He was laughing so hard we almost couldn't understand him but eventually we all got a huge kick out of that.  He told me later that day he saw two of the welders peeking around the corner of the building to see just how I was doing it on my own.  Of course, every time I passed them after that I made sure to smile big and wave.

Pipe Dreams

So, nobody was able to guess what the object was in the last post!  I kinda figured that might stump ya'll.  Many, many years ago (another lifetime almost) I used to work on pipe organs and the object is one of the larger wooden pipes from one of the organs we took care of.  (If you enlarge the photo in my last post you can see the stopper in the top and the mouth of the pipe down near the plants) You can see smaller versions in the photo above.  For each key on the keyboard there is a corresponding pipe and they descend in size according to the note.  Each set of pipes is called a "rank" and they each are tuned and voiced to a certain sound, such as the 8' trumpet, viola, etc.  And, the largest pipe of, say, the 8' trumpet, really is 8' tall.  Now, some ranks go all the way up to 32' but those pipes are normally not really 32'.  They will use electronics or other techniques to get that sound out of a smaller pipe.  As I said though, the pipe in my house is about 10' long, which was actually one of the smaller pipes in that rank we took out.  If I remember correctly the largest pipe in that rank was about 18'.  The pipes go from this size all the way down to teeny, weeny ranks where the pipes are about the size of a pencil.  Most of the pipes are lead or zinc or a combination of the two but about 1/3 of an organ will be wood pipes.  You occasionally see copper pipes but not often.

The pipe came out of this very church in Birmingham, although the pipes you see there are part of a new organ that was installed last year.  The guy I worked for maintained this organ and we had to restore it after a large fire destroyed everything but the sanctuary.  Supposedly, the large wooden pipes had cracked after being soaked by the fire hoses and so were replaced.  Unfortunately, the rank was replaced electronically, not with real wooden pipes.  The pipes are somewhere around 75 years old and of such beautiful wood a number of us saved all we could.  I only ended up with one but I guess that's better than none.  Of course, it's a challenge to come up with room for them.  Anyway, back then the pipe organ was valued at over $1 million: I'm not sure what this new one goes for.
The job didn't pay too well but it was interesting for sure and we had a lot of fun.  The guy I worked for was a good friend, and a unique fellow to say the least.  Sadly, he passed away a number of years ago at only 49.  A bad heart and drug use will do that sometimes.  He was a good guy though and I miss Howard.  But, as I said, that was a lifetime ago.

And did you know where the old saying, "pulling out all the stops" comes from?  Well, from pipe organs of course!  Each of those white knobs you see on the sides of the keyboards controls one rank of pipes and is referred to as a "stop".  When you pull a knob out it activates power to the air and valves of that rank, allowing it to speak and the organist can thus control the sound and fullness of the music.  So, if you pull out all the stops, the whole organ is playing and that is usually an astounding sound! 

See, ya'll just learn all kinds of interesting crap on my blog.  And, as ol' Howard used to say, you know what's better than roses on your piano?..........tulips on your organ of course!


Another update:  all my bloodwork has come back at this point and of course..it is all perfectly normal.  According to the numbers, not a damn thing wrong with me.

No Bones About It

The first thing I would like to say is that I would hope my Oklahoma readers would please leave a comment to let me know you are okay....I haven't heard from ya'll or seen the normal hits from that area so please leave a comment for me.

Okay, secondly, here's the lowdown on what is wrong with me.  Well...physically anyway.  The other would take too long.  I was diagnosed last Friday with Klippel-Feil Syndrome.  It is classified as a rare skeletal disease.  It is not fatal in itself, although in severe cases and with the complications some people do have a shortened lifespan.  I have a mild form but it is degenerative.  Klippel-Feil  is characterized by parts of the spine, usually in the neck, being fused together along with other internal deformities of various organ systems.  It is congenital.  These deformities developed when I was just a little peanut in my Mama and do not become more deformed as I grow older but as you age there are usually some problems that arise and this has been my case.  I went to my orthopedic doc last week because pains in my neck and more and more frequent bad headaches had begun to concern me.  They did an X-ray right off and even I could see immediately that something wasn't right when it flashed up on the screen.  I didn't know what exactly but my bones did not look right.  The doc took one look and said, Yep.  I have 2 vertebrate just about center of my neck that are fused.  The pain is from these bones causing the vertebrae above and below to degrade at a much faster rate than normal.  They are wearing away basically.  There is virtually nothing they can do to stop it.  They offer steroids, pain blocks and some physical therapy for pain management.  I will not take the steroids and don't feel it has gotten bad enough for a block.  I am going to try the therapy and see what that does.  And just not do things where I have to look up for long periods of time.  Over the past couple of years I had noticed that I would have a lot of difficulty doing that or it would result in a major migraine and now I know why.  The good news is that the MRI revealed that neither my nerves or spinal cord have been compromised.  My goal is to keep that from happening.  In extreme cases the bones can narrow and degrade to the point that it pinches or cuts into the spinal cord which results in paralysis..
This diagnosis also explains the other internal problems that I have come to be aware of these past few years.  Klippel-Feil patients often have heart irregularities although I think mine are fairly mild compared to most.  Deformities are also often present in the rest of the spine, the reproductive organs and the urinary system, including the kidneys.  I have a major deformity of my uterus, although some women are born completely lacking one and the ovaries too.  This problem has become a literal pain the past couple of years and may result in surgery at some point.  I am also concerned about the kidney aspect and plan to have that checked out as I've noticed a few issues in that area as well.

So.  It's sort of a crappy deal.  There are not many treatments and certainly no cure but I am heartily grateful that it is not worse for me.  Many people have some severe deformities and I can still do most things I want, work wise.  The goal is just to minimize the pain as much as possible.  I'm doing okay and only occasionally have a bad day where I just have to rest or take enough pain meds to just sleep.  I fully intend to keep up my work and whatever else I feel like.  It is somewhat of a relief or gratification to finally know exactly what is wrong and that the pain was not all in my head, so to speak.  I have hurt in one form or another since I was a teenager and it was always brushed off as "growing pains" or "Oh, Annie's just lazy".   So now I can say, HA!!  I knew something was wrong!  So, there you have it.  I told ya'll way back that I was the perfect mix of faulty genetics, lax upbringing and a crappy attitude.  I just didn't know how right I was! 

White Christmas

For some reason, I have always placed an almost mystical notion on the idea of a real snowfall on Christmas Day. I suppose because they are so rare for our region. And because snow itself seems to possess such a heavenly quality. The all encompassing quiet that settles over a place when it is covered with snow, is mesmerizing to me. It is like peace takes a physical form and coats the whole world in comfort. As some of you may know, Christmas has a spiritual meaning for me and over the past few years I have fought hard to bring some real feeling back to this holiday so ruined by rampant materialism and greed by so much of our society. I wanted Christmas to come without the help of any packages, boxes or bags, to quote the great Dr. Seuss. That simple childhood story sticks in my mind so every Christmas and I suppose I let myself foolishly be drawn back to the ideas I had as a child about snow and Christmas. See, a good bit of what I witnessed as a child was not exactly happy. Much of it involved other families but still, it was close. As children, we were told Christmas was special; the one time Heaven came to Earth. The one time we could speak face to face with God. In my childish mind I combined that idea with the peace that so naturally comes with snow. If it would snow on Christmas it could blot out all I saw that was hurtful and for a time anyway, the world around me would be at peace, just like the story says. If it snowed, then maybe God was still listening. I know that is all silly but kids imagine lots of things and I was a pro at conjuring any idea that helped me believe my world would get better one day.
As I grew up I abandoned my thoughts of such things, too busy with surviving the real world. Work got in the way anyway. Most of the time I had to work on Christmas Eve and I was too tired to put much thought into anything besides pouring concrete and how much overtime I could work. In the last few years though, I noticed those old thoughts creeping back into my mind. Of course, spending the last three years in my new house, always alone on Christmas, might do that for you. You know, you often question yourself in life, did I make the right decision here or there? Should I have done this or that differently? And I found myself wishing for snow again. What a stupid thing! To think the universe would use it's powers to shower me with this magical process on a particular day. It didn't owe me anything. But the little kid's voice kept whispering....if it would snow on Christmas maybe it would be a sign that I was where I was supposed to be. The peace that the snow would bring would simply be a reflection of my home here. If it would snow on Christmas, then maybe, God had been listening to me all this time after all.

I woke up a few times Christmas Eve night. That happens you know, when you get older. As I tiptoed through the bedroom I would sneak a look outside. The moon was still full enough to cast a good light over the land and I could see that the yard was still barren. In fact, the moon even being able to shed that much light told me that there were few clouds in the sky. Ah well, maybe next year. I snuggled back in beside Jack. At least there was a warm man beside me this night that I actually enjoyed being with. We woke up a little late, maybe around 7:00, the ground still bare, so I promptly set about to make coffee and fix our Christmas breakfast while Jack stoked the fire back up. It was sort of a funny thing then. I looked up through the kitchen windows and suddenly some of the largest snowflakes I've ever seen came tumbling down, blotting out the trees in the distance. I remarked to Jack that it seemed as though it was simply waiting on us to wake up. He agreed. And, even though the air did not feel anywhere cold enough, the snow began to lay. Not just on the deck and the tree limbs, but on the ground and in the garden. It waned on and off after a while but it always came back, harder than before and with those same huge snowflakes. Now, we didn't get near what some of ya'll up north would consider a decent snowfall. I wasn't going to lose my way walking to the wood pile or anything. But it covered the ground and that peace and wonderful quietness descended over my valley and it wrapped me up in it's arms. I had seen a white Christmas.



I believe I wrote a post a couple of Christmas's ago that said I hoped to one day wake up on Christmas morning next to a warm man and receive a gift of a sparkling thing that was not a toilet accessory or a tool of some type. As I sit and type this, I wear a sparkling item around my neck. Something I have rarely ever received. A gift from the warm man I woke up with this morning.
I hope you all had a wonderful day and don't forget; we have eleven more days of Christmas to celebrate! I'll be back tomorrow with the Second Day of Christmas.

Story Of My Life

Well, first I've got to show ya'll what I accomplished today! See that? With those windows being trimmed out, all the exterior trim is done!!! Yay!! I'm so happy. I got that finished and then proceeded to get the siding started on the clerestory face. What a pain in the butt. I got into a wasp's nest (didn't get stung), I accidentally drilled a hole in my leg (don't ask; I'm not even sure how I did that) and I messed up 6 feet of siding before I got the first piece to fit BUT I did finally get the first run started and going. I cursed so fluidly and with such veracity as to make proud the heart of any construction worker, young or old. Ol' Dominecker would have saluted me.

Of course, as soon as I finish the clerestory I've got to top out this piece of a gable. It shouldn't be too bad though.

Now, back to our discussion. Thanks so much for your answers and they did shed some light for me. I think Deb, who is only a year older than me, had a good point about our generation. I think ours was the first generation that the principles of equality for women were actively applied to public schools. The 60's and 70's had fought for equal rights and pay etc. but it didn't really come into effect until about the 80's. I remember in junior high the boys and girls took turns with Home Ec. and Shop. Each gender got half a year of both. I don't remember my older sister getting to take Shop so I think this was a new policy. It pissed me because, although we could take shop and use tools, they still wouldn't let the girls weld. I have often wanted to go back and shove my welding certificate in their face. Pfffftt! Take that, you bastards! heehee, just kidding. Then in high school there wasn't much talk of getting married and kids. The girls were encouraged and given the same options as the guys. College or join the military. ROTC was popular and many of the girls joined. In fact, several of my friends joined the regular military after high school. I think there were so many options available to us girls that many of us did 'wander' a little and there is nothing wrong with that. I went on to college because it was expected in my family but proceeded to wander after that and I am glad I did really.
As I've said, I don't have a problem with being 'abnormal', if indeed I am, but the extent to which I have taken self-sufficiency does sometimes get in the way of things. A lot of it is the social conditioning of the South. Melody, you are right. To me, women here get a real mixed message. You are supposed to be feminine and love dresses and tea parties and then at the same time, if you can't put the fear of God into some man if he dares to treat you unkindly, well, they just aren't going to respect you. Kinda that 'tomboy hiding behind high heels kinda thing'. Chicory is very correct in that it will take a very secure man to stay around me. (and I can't wait to see your studio too!) In fact, I had one carpenter sit me down and explain to me that I was too self-reliant. I give the men no opportunity to "come to my rescue" and apparently many Southern men need this in order to feel manly. As one 'ex' told me, "there's nothing I can do for you (that I can't do myself) and nothing that I can say to you (that some other man hasn't already told me)." I can assure any man however, that I will gladly let him be Bug Squasher Supreme, build all stuff he wants and take care of my truck if that makes him happy. Even the glorious Switchman told me one time at the end of that job, "I thought it was really cool when I first saw that a woman was out here doing this kind of work but after I saw the kind of work you actually have to do, it makes me feel bad. I don't like to see you work like that". Well, honey, I would gladly give it up if a decent man were to come along and want me to hold a more 'genteel' job, as my heart doctor keeps lecturing me to do. Driving 100 stakes in packed gravel in 100 degree weather lost it's adventurous appeal long ago. I'll stay my ass in the kitchen and bake pies!

I think what it boils down to, is that I simply turned out to be the perfect, horrid combination of faulty genetics, an unbridled mind and a crappy attitude. You see, I was born with not only a heart defect, but a reproductive one as well. An imbalance of the estrogen and testosterone did not allow my organs to develop and keeps me from carrying a pregnancy. As best I can tell, this imbalance also provided a stronger upper body than most women, larger and stronger hands and an attitude closer to a man's when it comes to life. But yet, I like men. You know, I like men. Heehee.
FloridaCracker asked if I was encouraged to 'step outside the box' when I was growing up. Well, I wasn't actually encouraged to do much of anything but I wasn't discouraged either. My parents were told frequently that there was something wrong with me, that I was mentally handicapped but instead of trying to take extra time with me I think they just said, the hell with it and just kinda let me do my own thing. Maybe not the best way to go about it, but it worked. Because I was not guided a certain way I grew up with no preconceived notions of how things were 'supposed' to be for a girl. Now, socially this can be a problem but educationally this was great I guess. If I wanted to learn anything I just tried it. They could tell I was different and if it kept me quiet to give me a hammer to play with, then that was fine. My mom did buy me a little tool set when I was about 5 or 6 and any kind of crafty things to make stuff with. I do remember being tested often in elementary school. They would take me out of class and ask me crazy questions like, "what is the main ingredient in making glass?" I was six but I knew the answer. It's sand or silica. I used to read encyclopedias when I was little, that's all. I don't remember telling my parents about the tests. So, my mind was just free to wander and no one tried to guide me a certain way. Now, initially this might sound pretty good but at a very young age I also realized that I was basically on my own. I remember once when I was about 7 or 8, I woke up one night after a very bad storm when my sister came back in the room. A tornado had come very close to our house and my parents had gathered up all the others but me. I was left alone during the storm, and many other times also, and this kinda became the pattern for my life. I taught myself to tie my shoes, to swim and ride a bike. I taught myself to drive and got my license on my own. When a friend's mother took her to take the test, I just went along for the ride. Her Mom asked me if I wanted to take my test while we were there so I said 'why not' and passed. None of my family asked me about such things and I'm not saying this to sound pitiful; it's just the way it was. I did learn a bit in school besides the academic stuff. They taught me how to keep a check book and cooking and a few other things and if I ever had trouble in school I worked it out myself. I told my parents about some stuff but they didn't seem concerned, so I learned early that my life was basically up to me. I had the good fortune of having some very nice teachers and guidance counselors that helped me, so I learned who to ask for help. I became very proficient at watching other people to see how they did things. Now with the Internet, I can see how different my upbringing was when I read other's blogs about their life and see how they interact with their kids. I mean, I think it was about 2 weeks before my father realized I had moved off to college. I'm not kidding. Sometimes I look back now and think I did pretty darn good to get this far.
And yes, sometimes I have a crappy attitude. I get very impatient with men. Just let me do it my damn self. I know what I want, just get out of my way. I'm trying to work real hard on changing that. I realize most other women my age are married and simply don't have to do the things I do. And, as Beatrice suggested, maybe they underestimate their ability to do such or are discouraged by men. That's why they don't learn to weld or drive a trackhoe. Hell, I wouldn't do some of it myself if I had someone else willing to do it. I'd still want to weld though!
So, the combination of all these things is what made me. Good or bad. But, I figure if I've learned all this maybe I can learn that when a man tells me I look nice, to smile sweetly and simply say "thank you", rather than "what the f**k do you want?" Maybe?

To answer some of the other comments: Hayley, you CAN learn carpentry or anything else. Most all states, maybe even Alaska, have technical colleges where you can go to take courses in welding, carpentry or any of the trades. I realize where you are now may limit you to what schooling you can get however. When I was an apprentice, Bessemer Tech in Birmingham was where we went but the courses are open to anyone and you don't have to be actively employed in the trades at the same time. The YWCA in Birmingham also offers trade schooling for women only, at little or no cost, and most union halls offer schooling to anyone interested, so there are lots of ways for women to get training in any of the trades. If any of you women are truly interested in learning more, check out your local resources. Call some local construction companies and simply ask where their craftsmen get their training. You can usually audit courses from colleges also. You don't get hourly credits for the course, like if you were getting a degree, but you get to take the entire class for a greatly reduced price.
FloridaCracker, you can look here and here to see what circumstances directed me into the construction industry.

Easy For You To Say

Ackk!! See what I mean; I did it again! I have a lot of trouble sometimes getting the words to come out right, even written ones, and end up making something sound completely opposite what I'm trying for. Now, I'm sure most of you don't know what I'm talking about but apparently, in that last post, I made it sound like the guy I had the bad date with this weekend, turned out to be married. That was not the case. I do make an effort to investigate that stuff before agreeing to go out with someone! What I meant to say, was that the guy on the job that favors the Switchman, turned out to be married. I know I had talked about that guy and then a couple of days later said I had a date and I didn't want anybody to construe that it was with him. Mainly because the Switchman lookalike is a nice guy and I didn't what to cast any bad shadow on him.
Anyway, when I get on a roll I can misspeak and offend most anyone. For all the physical talents I have, I am a complete social moron. Anything from the original Switchman story, to flat out offending people just trying to be nice. I have good intentions but we all know what they say about that and everything comes out jumbled up. It's probably the most likely reason I've always been alone and why I feel more comfortable, and competent, creating something with my hands rather than opening my mouth. So, if I say some really stupid crap on here sometimes, just overlook it. Or ask me to clarify. I don't mind and I will not cuss anybody for their comments either, I promise. Even ugly ones. Well, if they're real ugly maybe but not for just regular ugly.

Speaking of hearing funny things though, one of the guys at work cracked me up today. I had to do a little welding this morning and when I finished I was rolling up my leads and such, cleaning up. There was a young electrician working very nearby and he walked over to me. He had never really spoken before so I wondered what was up. He smiled, "They say you can do just about anything.... is there anything you can't do?" I had to laugh. A myriad of things ran through my mind that I cannot do! I joked about not being able to sing or dance and he laughed too. I get comments like that fairly frequently. If they only knew. And I always wonder who 'they' is. Podie started off talking to me with the comment, "They say your Daddy was a superintendent, that's where you learned all this stuff". Nope. If 'they' were my guys, 'they' would know the truth behind that. It's kinda weird to hear yourself talked about like that. Guys I don't know who know me. I've heard some outrageous stuff about myself ( I told ya'll the 'used to be a man thing') Fortunately, that's the most offensive thing I've ever heard. Mostly, to hear them talk, I hold lightning bolts in my bare hands and wrestle bears for fun. Hhhmmm, not too far from the actual truth. I like to think of myself as an adult Pippie Longstockings.

Here's a garden update! Or maybe I should say, a tomato patch update because I don't have much else planted. The maters are doing really well this year and I think all the plants already have a number of fruits on them. These are Beefsteak and Rutgers. The brussels sprouts are doing well but I'm not sure how they are going to take the hot weather. I planted them when it was quite cool but they just sat there for weeks and only now have started growing. Oh well, we'll see. I have a few pepper plants that are doing okay and my strawberries are starting up for another round. I think their soil still needs a lot more amending. And some pine straw mulch!

Growin' Up

A couple of new readers recently asked a few questions about my past and how I got on this crazy road I'm traveling now. Well, some of that is my words not theirs but anyway...I thought I'd take the time to answer one of those questions but don't worry long-time readers, I'll go back to posting about the house. I just thought I'd intersperse some of these new questions amongst the regular topics.

As would be expected, I guess, I did grow up in a rural area, a little farther north of the town I now live in. It was a small family farm where we grew a lot of our own food and raised an assortment of animals. In a lot of ways, it was an idyllic childhood full of long, lazy summer days spent swimming in the creeks and fishing. Running barefoot through the cool, freshly plowed soil making a game of gathering up the potatoes before Daddy could make the next pass with Pepper, the plow horse. I especially remember Christmases and Halloween. We always seemed to have plenty on all the holidays and they were full of all the quintessential elements. Lots of family, treats of all sorts and back then, kids could dress up in handmade costumes and roam up and down the country roads after dark without fear of real-life terrors. We only had to worry about the older boys jumping out from behind the bushes and then we'd scream and laugh and it was all in good fun.

We had a lot of good fun when we were kids but there was unfortunately, an aspect of my childhood that I was happy to leave behind and I did so, the same as my siblings, just as soon as I was old enough. We were not abused and were always fed and clothed but I did witness a lot of abuse, mostly of women and animals. My two best friends were sisters that lived about a half mile away, so we were very close, like family. Their step-father was one of the most truly evil men I have ever known. In fact, most of the men I grew up around were real sonsabitches. It's a wonder I have such affection for men now. But that's another story. My own father was fairly humorless, strict and paranoid. We were looked upon as indentured servants basically. Free labor for him until we turned 18 and could go to college. He made the most of his time but in return it did strengthen my back and my resolve. I have seen many older people grow up to adapt the 'habits' of their parents; to just continue the cycle of abuse and ignorance in which they were raised. Thank God there was something in me that vowed I would use every ounce of my strength to be just the opposite of what I saw growing up. I saw how my mother was treated and I said I would die before I would let any man hold me back or sit and tell me I had no business trying to be someone.
When I finally got to college, one of my first classes was drawing (I knew I wanted to major in something art related) and that professor was absolutely a Godsend. He was the first person to ever encourage me and tell me that he thought I could be a success. Because I was very quite when I was little much of my family, and some teachers, decided that there was something wrong with me. They told my parents that I was autistic. Everyone knew I was different and they took any opportunity to point that out to me. I never understood what was so unusual about myself but I did understand that many of them pretty much wrote me off. I would never amount to anything in their minds and to this day, none of my remaining cousins will have anything to do with me.
At any rate, this professor helped me, gave me a scholarship and with his assistance I received a full academic scholarship to the University of Montevallo, where I completed my degree. From there I went to work and eventually found employment with the company I'm with now. That's all in the archives though.
I hesitate to tell many people about much of what I've experienced because I always imagine that they will think I'm making it up but the sad thing is that I have actual written proof in some cases. One of the last things my father did before he died was write a letter to me to express his sorrow and sympathy over my 'situation'. I was divorced see, and you know, a woman can never have anything in life without a man there to give it to her and I guess I had blown my one chance in his eyes. When I graduated with honors from college, one of my oldest cousins actually attended my senior art show. She made sure to tell me that she was really shocked that I was able to do such work. 'I just can't believe you had it in you', she said. A couple of my close 'friends' at the church I grew up going to, would literally not speak to me anymore after I went off to college. I have been told that I was flat-out stupid, would just wind up pregnant, have ruined my life and cursed myself to a life of solitude for choosing to work construction. And that's the encouraging stuff! lol! just kidding.
So many people, especially women, have told me "I wish I could do what you do!" or how do you do all that stuff by yourself? "I wish I had your skills!" and all that. Well, I'll let you in on my secret...and to quote a new favorite song of mine...
I think there’s one thing I will say to you
That there is nothing that you can’t do
Cause it’s all about your attitude
Don’t let them get to you

I guess that's sort of an old cliche' by now but it is all about your attitude. And maybe part of it was just damn Scotch-Irish stubbornness but I chose not to listen to everyone that told me I would never be anything. And you know what? I eventually met some people that encouraged and helped me. You see why I love my guys so much. Most of the men I work with have been my biggest cheering section. Guys that a lot of society wouldn't piss on if their head was on fire but they have stood by me for years and helped me. Of course, there are times when I get discouraged as my long-time readers know. I can piss and moan with the best of them! And I can be too independent sometimes. You have to be careful not to let hateful events from your past get too tight a grip on you or you can become relentless and miss the joys in life. You have to want to be successful (whatever that means to you) for yourself, not to prove somebody else wrong.


*Bruce Springsteen

How Long Has This Been Going On?

I just happen to be going through some of my archives the other night and realized that, come February, I'll have been blogging for 4 years. Four years... that's kinda hard for me to believe but I'm not sure why. And what is even more astounding to me, is that you people are still reading and I keep getting more regulars! I'm not sure if it's that I'm interesting or you crazy folks just like watching a train wreck.
Anyway, I've thought a lot about the whole blogging thing and how it has morphed so from what I started. Well, I really didn't know what I was doing when I started; I just thought it would be something fun to do and something that a friend (Rurality) encouraged me to start. Damn you Rurality! you've destroyed my mind! lol! Just kidding, but she probably had no idea what a monster she was creating. I have always liked the idea of keeping a journal but for some reason, was never able to keep it up for very long. Maybe there is just enough of an exhibitionist in me to enjoy the publicity of blogging more than a private diary but one of the main reasons I like blogging is because it does serve as a journal. That and I can actually have some contact with other folks, which is great considering that the way and area I live in can be somewhat isolating at times. And folks from all over the world!! how cool is that?! But I tell ya, nothing makes me feel better than to receive an email or comment from someone who says they were down and discouraged, but after reading my blog some, saw that they could do more things than maybe they had previously believed and DID! There have been many a day I've thought to myself that it is stupid for me to be writing this blog and going to all this trouble but if I can encourage even one person to try a new skill or help themselves out of a bad situation then I am happy to have gone to the 'trouble'. Even if you just feel better knowing that you're not as nutty or as big a ding dong as I am about life, it still makes me happy.
I was recently reading another blog where many of the commenting bloggers were saying that they would be mortified to know that people they worked with or other casual acquaintances had read their blog. I found that interesting. Maybe I'm too stupid to be self-conscious but it doesn't bother me to know that there are definitely people I work with that read here. Maybe I'm just an open person, I don't know. Now, of course, there is plenty I don't write about on here and never will but I don't think feelings are anything to be ashamed of (and I think some people do); it's certain actions that might be cause for shame but I'm here to say that we are all human and sometimes we all feel things we maybe shouldn't, even though many people won't even admit that. I mean, who's the stronger person? one that is tempted and provoked and still resists or one that always does right but was never really in danger because they just don't have the feelings? I think I'd rather be accused to having too much feeling than none at all and I'll never be ashamed of caring for another person. The thing is, everybody has their own unique trials and don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise. I once worked for a man that most people would envy in that he had more money than he probably even knew. There was very little in this world that he literally, could not buy. But he slept with a loaded gun in the bed with him. Nobody has it all. Nobody is immune to insecurity or fear.
Well, I'm not smart enough to be philosophizing to ya'll people but just keep this in mind: even the lowest construction worker learns, in his first days on the job, that you can do just about anything if you put your mind to it. You might be a little slower than some until you get the hang of it, but you can learn just like they did. It's just one step at a time, so don't ever give up.

*Ella Fitzgerald

Only Yesterday

Ooooh, I have been such a bad blogger lately. No posts for days, late answering comments. Well, I'm trying to mend my ways and get back to a little more frequent posting rate. I have no idea what has been distracting me lately (hee hee).
So, I'm going to answer another one of the great questions posed by my wonderful readers. This one from Island Rider asked, how did you go from art school to construction work? And I'm sure you may also be asking yourself what these photos have to do with anything? Patience, weedhopper, I'll get to that. These are photos of the Barber Motorsports Museum just outside of Birmingham, AL. A really cool place, even if you don't care for motorcycles and race cars but, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Both of my long time readers will remember the story of how I went from art school to construction but I'll tell it again. After graduating from college I needed a job ASAP, as most do, and a fellow I met in college offered me a job working with him. He maintained and repaired many of the grandest pipe organs in quiet a few of the big Birmingham churches. It wasn't the best pay but a decent job with someone I knew while I tried to decide what to do about graduate school and all that. Well, one of the largest and best known churches in Birmingham caught fire and the pipe organ was heavily damaged, so we began an immediate restoration. A local construction company (whose owner belonged to the church) also began repairs on the sanctuary at the same time and Allen was the superintendent for the project. We all became friends with him and his carpenters and worked for several months together. During this process however, my boss suddenly developed an intense and all-consuming cocaine habit. Obviously, this did not make for good working conditions so I began searching for another job as we were actually close to finishing. Allen suggested that I apply to the company he worked for as a field clerk and, because he knew I could weld and use tools, he had them put me down as a laborer also.

So, I got the job and became the first field clerk/ laborer for my company. Allen requested I be sent to his job so he could help me get started and knowing at least a couple of the guys helped me feel more at ease in the beginning. The job was a large house (I showed a few photos from recently) and the owner was the same man that built this museum, Mr. George Barber. I did a lot of welding and miscellaneous labor work on the house and the guys all made a great effort to teach me all they could about anything from building to auto repair and running heavy equipment.  Now, this house was nothing like a regular house as it was completely structural concrete and steel, much like what this museum looks like, so I got a good education in commercial construction. There were a couple of cars there that I remember Mr. Barber frequently driving to the house too.

But, I'm off the subject again. So, after about a year I was transferred to another job because it was federally funded and the government likes to employ minorities on such projects. My company had learned that I could do the work in the field and offered me the position of apprentice carpenter. This almost doubled my pay, so I jumped at it.

I still remember my first day on that new job. I had forgotten some tools or something on the Barber house so I went by there first, before going to the new site. The sun was barely coming up over the hill and it was a soft, cool fall morning.  My intention was to work that federal job to completion and then either go back to school or something but I guess Fate (or something) intervened and I met my first (and only) husband on that job and he, uumm, insisted that I remain with the company and in the field with him. By the time I divorced, I had been set up to journeyman and had actually grown to like the work.

So, I just kept on working construction and grew to be halfway competent at it. The men that I have worked with are just the best in the world. They have always treated me so kindly and fair. They taught me much of what I know and were patient when I didn't understand something. But they were always ready to give me a slight kick in the pants when I needed it for having a crappy attitude or acting like I wanted to quit on something. There were many skeptical looks in the beginning but they gave me a chance anyway. And now I've been doing it so long even men from other companies that I don't know have heard of me and I often get the "Oh, you're Annie!" Then they smile and step out of my way.

All in all it's been a very interesting trip so far. I've done and built some stuff that most of society doesn't even know is possible. Hopefully, I have helped make it maybe just a little easier for any women that want to follow after me. I've raised a little hell along the way and made the acquaintance of several lovely men through the years. I've acquired a world of skills that have really come in handy for many areas of life. 

*Appropriately enough, The Carpenters

Last Thing I Needed First Thing This Morning

The title of this post (and subject matter) and the photo don't have anything to do with each other. I've just been listening to Willie quite a bit lately and didn't realize until I was downloading the photo that it is "first thing this morning" too! I just thought it was a pretty sunrise the other morning and happen to get a shot.
The title and the subject matter are kinda related in that sometimes, when it seems that things are trying enough as it is, Life just wants to really push us further than we can go. However, as I have sometimes learned although not part of the song, if you will go ahead with it, there is often a lesson or some benefit to it. This post is also mainly for a friend; someone who's words meant a great deal to me many years ago, although I'm sure he is completely unaware. Often times random things we say in the course of conversation can really hurt or help the other person without us ever knowing but this event turned out to be a great benefit to me even though it started out badly in my mind.

This post is not a downer but does have some serious content at first so if you prefer lighter fare I won't be offended if you go on to the next blog. Except you Buddy, you keep reading. Fifteen years ago, during the last week of September, my brother died at his own hand. For many years afterward I had a lot of trouble accepting this and often blamed myself for his actions. I was the last person to speak to him or see him alive. It wore on me for a long time and I constantly questioned what I could have done to have stopped him or changed something. Now, at the time of his death I was working at a large, old church on the south side of Birmingham. That was the last place I ever saw my brother, so for many years, and really even to this day, I avoided even that neighborhood. We lived about a quarter mile from this church also, so I didn't want to be around there at all.
Well, skip ahead about 5 years, I'm newly divorced and living north of Birmingham. The personnel director for my company called and asked me to go run some trim at a church. It was a small job, just one carpenter and the superintendent were all that was needed and I'd only be there about a week. The church was over on the south side of Birmingham, not the one, but right next door. In fact, you could literally stand between the 2 churches, stretch out your arms and touch both buildings at the same time.
Well, when would I be needed there? Oh, the last week of September. Just that week.
Couldn't they get someone else? There are better trim carpenters than me! Nope. No one else is available.
I couldn't really say, "I can't go" and didn't want to get into why. It's highly frowned upon in our business if you refuse to go to a certain job without very good reason so, having just turned out as a journeyman, I felt that I had to just suck it up, as they say. After all, it was just for a few days but God, what a slap in the face. I mean, any other time of year or any other place but this!
So, I made it through the first couple of days but my mind was really working on me and I felt myself becoming quite depressed. The third day was the exact anniversary of my brother's death and I was really struggling to make it all the way to quitting time. So, at lunch the superintendent and I were sitting around chatting about various things, when he started telling me about his wife and family. As far as I know, he was unaware of my situation so I'm not sure what brought that subject or the one that followed up, it's been 10 years after all, but we talked on and then he started telling me about his wife's grandfather, I think it was. It might have been his grandfather but at any rate, this man had told him (my boss) that years before something had happened to him and it really brought him down. He became very depressed and finally one day decided that he could no longer take it. He took a loaded gun and went outside, I think to the barn. He was completely alone and had all the freedom to carry out his plan. No one was there to stop him. As he sat there for a few moments collecting himself, his thoughts turned to his granddaughter. She was very young and he loved his granddaughter very much, so much so that he decided that was the one thing that he could stand to live for.
It was like someone had turned a light on in my head. Though we really want to help our loved ones, everyone is ultimately responsible for themselves. You can't make people do what you thing is best for them, we all have to find our life on our own. Whether you choose to believe in God or another person or the greater collective of mankind, each person must have something to hold on to. You can only hold on to someone's hand for so long after they've let go. I didn't say anything at the time for whatever reason but from then on the load seemed a little lighter and I began to accept what had happened. I will always miss my brother and still feel somewhat that I could have done more but I have a better understanding of things now.
So, when things get rough for me or it seems that I'm being asked to "take one on the chin" I try and remember that there may be something in it for me after all. Maybe a chance to learn or see from a new perspective. And thank you Buddy, for sitting down and having lunch with me that day. You may not remember that job but I always will.


*Willie Nelson

All Our Past Times

I have been going through some old work photos to try and find some that might show form work for slabs and more specifically, the rebar specs, but have not been able to locate hardly any. Ron over at Homesteading Hickory Hills is about to form a slab roof for his root cellar and I am trying to get him some photos etc., although I think he is already on the right track. I haven't forgot about you Ron and will still send that little sketch for the outside forms. I did come across some funny and interesting photos though from waaay back though. This one above is obviously me but about 7 or 8 years ago. I was a journeyman at this point, working on a hospital. It struck me how clean and neat I look then. I mean, we try to all keep ourselves neat looking at work, as best we can, but my ol' hardhat is much more battered now, with a lot more stickers. Many construction workers collect stickers from the jobs they work on as sort of a record. I have 2 now that I prize highly with the NS logo; given to me by a major sweetheart. My nail apron is held together in many places with tie wire. I guess I am going to have to break down and buy some more. That hammer is still the same one I carry now but it is needing to go into retirement too. It has just gotten about impossible to find a 20 oz. leather handle, straight claw Estwing though. I don't wear suspenders anymore. Actually, that did not last long at all. Most of the guys wear them because our pouches are so heavy but let's just say, they don't have anything up top to "get in the way" of suspenders. I found them very irritating and I have enough caboose to keep my apron up, unlike most men! A lot of people ask me why I don't wear my nail apron when I work at home. Well, ours are a little different than what these guys on This Ol' House wear! Ours are longer and can weigh 15-20 lbs. if carrying all that we do for form work. When we get a chance to take them off, we do!
Turning 40 also has gotten me thinking a lot about where I've been and things I've done. I guess I've had a very different life experience than most women. This was a job I was on in North Carolina. It is not one of my favorite job memories because I was married at the time but it was interesting. It was who I was married to, not the fact that I was married btw. This is what we call a tilt-up. Basically, you pour the wall slab on the ground, as if it were a floor slab, and then you stand them up and secure them to the building frame. You can stack them up like cards on the ground and you spray a release agent on each on to (hopefully) keep them from sticking to one another. These are about 8" thick and weighed about 35 tons apiece. They have more rebar in them than a regular slab to withstand the stress of movement. Pouring the panels is fun and interesting but setting them is very dangerous and nerve wracking, at least to me. Generally, you have a separate contractor come in and set the panels. These guys make "danger pay" which is a higher rate when they are doing this because it is so risky. Many men have died because the wind will get up quickly and snatch the panels around or various other problems and break the straps to the crane.
With these big openings you would have a slight chance of getting through a hole but with the solid panels, well, at least it would be a fairly quick way to go. I was just a little apprentice on this job and had never been around anything like this before. We had a crew come in, mostly Hispanics, and began setting the panels on a Monday. Well, that night they all went out and just got really hammered because they were all too sick to come in the next day. Some of these guys are kinda rough. Anyway, we couldn't wait on them so we had to start setting them ourselves. Fortunately, our bosses had experience with the panels but it was still very scary to me and the other apprentice boy because we were the ones that had to climb up on the panels and secure them after they were put in place. We were very happy to see that crew come back in the next day. I think they were a little surprised to see that we had set a bunch without them.
I'm still working on siding; it's going pretty slow but it looks good. Maybe some photos of that soon. It has rained some more so I've had to stop now and again because of that. I did take the time yesterday morning to plant a good bit in the garden before it just got too late, so am very happy about that.


*Eric Clapton/ No Reason To Cry album

Big Things I Build Now Or I've Been Working On The Railroad

This is sort of a continuation of a post I did several weeks ago where I talked about how I got started in art and all and where I came from. This is where I am now. After I graduated from college I needed a job and jobs in art are hard to find unless you just bite the bullet and try to be a full time studio artist. I enjoy eating and paying my bills enough that I wanted a little bit more secure job and thought that I could just pursue my art on the side. Also, a family tragedy that dumped a load of debt in my lap sort of forced me to find a job that paid pretty good on a regular basis. I learned to weld in college taking sculpture classes so when I met some fellows ( on a small job I had) that worked construction, they offered to help me get a job with them and the rest, as they say, is history. No one thought that I would last a week. I'm only 5'-6" and then weighed about 130 lbs. Necessity is the mother of invention and determination so I hung on and am now one of the senior carpenters for this company.
These photos go in reverse order so if the progress of the building seems odd that is why. This is one of the concrete pours we made not too long ago. That big arm thing stretched out there is the concrete pump truck. Most of the time we can just pour straight out of the truck but sometimes you have to pump it if the trucks can't get near the forms. We pour about 150-250 yards at a time on this job. That is nothing compared to some really big jobs. This was taken when it was still pretty warm here and so we started pouring before the sun was up.
I love the smell of concrete in the morning! OK, enough of my Duvall impersonation. This is the business end of the pump truck. One guy has to guide the hose so the concrete is shot where you want it. The other guys are vibrating the concrete so that it gets around the rebar well etc. These pours can last for hours and you don't stop unless the concrete does. We can take turns running to get a drink or bathroom break. This is why I am so tired sometimes and don't always feel like working on my house.
A lot of people can't see why I do this and think that the men mistreat me. They are construction workers after all, you know. My brother, the minister, always says that construction ruined me but I think construction saved me. Before I was very, very shy and had no self confidence. I had always been used to working but did not realize what a person could do given a few tools. A successful construction worker learns 2 things: 1. Leave your feelings at home. 2. A construction worker can do anything. Even the most daunting tasks are "just a thang". You just take it one step at a time. So many people seem so amazed or whatever at the work I do but I'm not doing anything that most people can't do. It's all learned. Wonderful old carpenters and steel workers taught me and had patience with me. They teased me and pestered me until I opened up and would talk. And yeah, I get asked out and given gifts and phone numbers but mostly in very gentlemanly ways. They know how to give a nice compliment and have given me a lot of self confidence. These men are almost better to me than my own family. They are not how most of society views them, as knuckle dragging morons. Yes, of course, I have met a few who were but I've met plenty of white collar males that would fit that description too. Now, there have been some times that I could have choked some of them and had to pitch a few "come aparts" as we say, to get some respect but all in all, I couldn't ask for better guys to work with. I always say now that when I first started, the guys would call me "sweetheart" and ask me out, now they all call me "ma'am" and offer to carry my tools.... I'm not sure which I prefer.
The house is progressing albeit slowly. I started the shower tile and will have photos of that soon. The next big item is to get heat on in the house and hot water. My fixtures are on their way from somewhere so I'm hoping to have a working shower maybe in about a week. I've been trying to relax a little lately and not get so worked up about the house but I'm not sure it's working. The results from my heart tests came back and it's nothing bad but it's skipping beats a lot now and it makes me very tired sometimes. Not sure what to do about it. Be back soon!