I have a blister at the base of my index finger that is the size of Manitoba…which is a province in Canada for those not in the geographical know…actually it’s more the size of a pea (the blister, not Manitoba) but it feels frickin’ massive.  

The moment I left home on Thursday I was sure I’d get a flat tire.  My husband was catching a ride out with my parents on Friday but since I was able to sneak away early I took advantage of the opportunity and the dog and I headed for the lake on our own.  The freshly graded road seemed pretty hazard free but I had a bad feeling so I was paying close attention to how the truck was handling, dreading the idea of having to change a flat on my own on the side of the dusty logging road.  Fortunately all tires were well inflated by the time I arrived at our camp and while I am sure some kind trucker would have stopped to give me a hand I was relieved at not having to test my mechanical abilities or my feminine wiles.  

A few hours later the dog was nudging me and running for the driveway…her not-so-subtle hint that she’d like to go for a swim…so once I got all of our stuff put away we walked down to the water where she frolicked (I swear she was grinning and laughing) in the water for a while.  As we walked back up the driveway I noticed that the backside of the truck looked lopsided…and believe me I’ve seen a lot of lopsided backsides.  The rear driver’s side tire was completely flat.  

When my husband arrived the next day I showed him the deflated tire and told him I was sure I hadn’t driven on it that way.  I was certain I would have felt some kind of disturbance in the force if I had but in my head I was thinking I probably would have driven on the flat anyway though I wasn’t about to admit that.  When we (he) removed the tire it was obvious that I indeed had not shredded the flat by driving on it and upon closer inspection (with some soapy water) we discovered that the leak was a small puncture between the treads. 

Heiny says I am not allowed to go to the lake on my own anymore, apparently he worried about me all night.  I thought it was sweet that he stressed about my well-being until he added “Because if anything goes wrong you’ll be mad at me.”  So really he couldn’t care less about my safety he’s just protecting his own ass…from my foot.

My dad hooked up to the old trailer with his pick-up and it came out of the ground like shit from the ass of a goose.  Smooth baby, smooth.  I was sure that because it had been in that spot and settled into the soft ground for over twenty years that it would take more than a gentle tug to get it moving but despite the fact that there was only one tire inflated it rolled out without a hitch…besides the one on the truck.

You’re still picturing the shitting goose aren’t you.  

On Saturday Dad brought the Skid Steer (Bobcat, miniloader thingy) out to do some earth moving and leveling for us.  We cleared the brush from the backside of our property (why is it I seem destined to trim bushes even on my days off?) and mowed the shrubberies down.  We framed up the base of the cabin and with a wiggle here and a shuffle there we now have it situated on the property so as to maximize our space and views.  Heiny and I put a couple of lawn chairs where our deck will be and sat for a while to be sure it was exactly where we wanted it.  My aunt asked us what we were doing and Heiny answered “Watching our grandkids play on the lawn.”  Someday.

On Sunday we got the joist hangers nailed in and most of the floor joists cut to size and put in place.  It was hammering all of those nails that gave me the blister on my hand.  It hurt like a sonofabitch but I didn’t complain and when my back and shoulders and arms ache from the rest of the construction I won’t bitch about that either.  Well, I might whine a little just for sympathy but the truth is I can’t wait to get back out there to work on it some more.  It is so rewarding to see it start to happen, this dream of my cabin by the lake is finally becoming a reality.  Now if only my other dream of becoming a lottery winner would come to fruition.

My blister will be a calloused over in a few days and while it may not look very good to have workin’ man hands in my profession it should save me from further pain and aggravation when I pick up the framing hammer next weekend.  Feel free to call me ‘ben the builder’…she can build it, yes she can.  Well, she can help at least.