We never do things in too much of a hurry around here. Big projects are contemplated, scrutinized, and tabulated until the weather’s right, the crops are in, or the larger tasks downright have to be done or something will be falling down within a day
With deliberation long past, Ed thought maybe we should call someone to straighten the big ol’ hip roof barn, as it was sagging in one corner and had a hernia on another. Not everyone goes to school to become a barn surgeon, so we had a small problem finding someone to tackle the job.
The first year, Ed called on an advertisement in the local paper that promised a no-holds-barred service-to-satisfaction, straighter-than-straight barn in a matter of days. That fellow’s mother took six or seven messages, each time complaining to Ed about her son’s most recent predicament of either hiding from his ex-wife or being locked up in jail.
Ed called promising talent number two, and that fellow showed up about a year later to give an estimate. Now, we do live in the country, and we do wear bib overalls once in awhile when the poop gets a little deep, but that guy’s estimate for straightening the barn equaled a trip to China for four!
Awhile after that, Ed called on a neighbor who had his barn tummy-tucked a few years back and got the resume of a repairman who was supposed to be top-notch in his field. That chap’s pickup had more wire and duct tape holding it together than was stocked at the local hardware store. “We’ll think about it and give you a call.”
Barn straightening came into the conversation every few months after that. “Maybe we should…,” “How about…,” and “Couldn’t we…” were the usual comments in passing until I arrived home one afternoon to find a pile of construction materials in front of the barn and Ed walking by with his nail apron tied on. No, no, noooo! Too late. We were about to become the latest statistic on hazardous farming maneuvers.
Recruiting the help of two family friends, we began the facelift and hip replacement of the barn.
When asked to shift, barns make the eeriest moaning and groaning sounds you ever heard. Throughout the entire straightening phase, I refused to go near old Barney as it was a heck of a lot bigger than the cables and winches that were tugging at its corners. Taking “before” photos, I hoped like heck there would be an “after” portrait and not a huge pile of lumber. Ed scowled as I took a remembrance photo of him as well.
A few days later, big old Barney’s chiropractic treatment was finished and all that was left was his facelift. One baby step at a time, I made it to the top of the roof for shingling duty. Amazed at the view, I pondered what shenanigans the neighbor across the section was up to as, first, the UPS truck pulled into his driveway and, an hour later, the FedEx van was speeding down his lane.
The teenager living a mile to the south was driving way too fast on the gravel road, and his mother would be called that evening.
Waiting for instructions and entertaining myself, I found out the dog could catch pieces of a sandwich in mid-air from fifty feet above.
Ed had no idea what he was doing when he handed me an automatic, air-powered nail gun preloaded with fifty rounds of ammunition. “What’s this button for?” sent all three men to the other side of the rooftop in one giant leap!
Helper Mark hooked his trousers on a loose board and flashed everyone living within two miles.
Helper Chris talked a lot. In fact, he never quit talking as I learned about everything from his deprived childhood to his latest shotgun purchase. Looking down, I saw there was nowhere to go; all I could do was nod and smile as Chris recounted tale after tale of his life’s adventures. I moseyed over to the other side of the roof, hoping to work beside a quieter assistant. Helper Mark answered each of my questions with a grunt.
Seizing the opportunity to complain and ponder out loud the theories of raising children, I was soon left alone to visit with the shingles. Who would have ever known that one could design drawings with shingles on a barn roof? Ed was not very impressed with my cute little pig etching, and I was banned from the roof.
Again, my question of “What’s this button for?” raised me to a complete upper category of trouble when I spotted the electric pressure paint sprayer. The end result would compare to the “Everybody Loves Raymond” painting episode with Ray and Marie. Chris and I called Ed “Marie” until the paint wore off, and Mark spoke his first words on the farm: “Ain’t that a train wreck?”
Barney’s makeover turned out very well, but Ed hid his nail apron last week when I suggested we add onto the barn to raise a few ostriches…