(With apologies to Everclear -- goodness, the stuff that one listened to in college...)
I think it must be one of the effects of spending one's days in a cube, in front of a computer, doing things for which people are terribly grateful but which it's nearly impossible to explain to one's children over dinner, that one finds oneself every so often wanting to Build Something With Your Hands. And being as red-blooded an American male as the next fellow, when this urge comes upon me it is inevitably something Big that involves using Power Tools that I desire to make.
Last time this resulted in a 7 foot mahogany bookshelf. Now, I'm sure that the furniture making urge will come again, but right now there is still room for at least 100-200 more books before we totally run out of space again (and that's after the library book sale last weekend). Besides, I'm thinking something that doesn't involve quite so much fine finishing work. (Yes, 14+ hours of sanding gets old after a while.)
And so while watching the monkeys tear around the back yard the other evening it struck me: What our young ladies need is a playhouse. When I mentioned this to them, they wanted to get started right away and build it out of sticks -- like the house at Pooh Corner, I suppose. But this is not the idea which catches Daddy's fancy. No, Daddy's imagination leans in the direction of lumber and plywood and nails and the circular saw. A while back I was fascinated to read about Matt and Amber's early building experiment with the workshop/shed on their property. So I think I'm picturing something built on a 6x9 foot base (conveniently the same size as a sheet of plywood), walls about 5.5 feet high, and a gravel foundation.
Sure it'll be hell to move someday, and the home owner's association would have a fit if they found out -- but for what do we live but to make sport for our neighbors, and play with lumber and power tools in the meantime.
I think I need to go pick up a pad of graph paper and a drafting pencil at lunchtime...
2 hours ago