Mockery

In reflecting back on my very productive recent days, laboring diligently to prepare The Barn to house our several tons of books, I have the nagging suspicion that I was the target of some subliminal mockery.  I got some of the two dozen glazed doors cut and a few installed (and the stock for all of them ready to assemble).  Still, just beyond earshot I thought I sensed, feeling more than hearing, a gentle guttural Gallic guffaw, cruelly chiding me with, “Roubo, Roubo, Roubo.”

Yes, only steps away from where I toiled from dawn to dusk were the ~600 pounds worth of components for The Bench, sitting patiently waiting for my attentive affections.  The top is already bound to a triple block and tackle, as it is the only way I can maneuver it at all.  Based on my rudimentary understanding of mechanics and some back-of-the-envelope calculations, the top itself weighs about 450 pounds (my fully-clothed weight of about 230 is just barely enough to levitate the unit, hence the top weighs a smidge less than twice that weight).

Unfortunately given my upcoming schedule it is unlikely that I will be able to focus my efforts on completing The Bench before early October.  It is immensely gratifying and frustrating to receive the periodic emails from my fellow FORPXI congregants regaling the group with the tales of completing their shrine, er, workbench, from the recent gathering in Barnesville, Georgia.

My day will come.  My only steps thus far are to prepare the space where it will reside.  Directly in front of two banks of north-facing windows, it will be the centerpiece of my work for the next three or four decades.