Timberrrrrr!

I’ve wanted to play with the kids more in the courtyard, but the gutter just puts me off. I’m always afraid something will roll in there and it’s just too disgusting for me. Also, when it’s hot it really starts to reek. So, I decided I should cover it. I’ve seen it done in many places and, although I’m no carpenter, I sketched myself a design and made a bill of materials (hey, I may not be a carpenter, but I AM an operations geek). Since Max is writing a book, I was pretty sure he’d want to see the timber market, so I asked him along. It’s pretty cool.

We drove through rows and rows of timber “vendors” – just like the produce market, really – everybody brings their stuff and sets up shop, each with a different merchant and “cashier” shed. We finally decided they were all about the same, so we stopped and got out. We were immediately surrounded by men asking what we were looking for. As a true introvert, I just hate that. I tried my approach from home, “I just want to look around,” but it was no use. They called out “2x6”, “2x4”, “what do you want” as I walked around measuring pieces of wood (no two the same and all rough milled), until I found a stack I thought would work for the frame. They were willing to cut it as well, but the power happened to be out so one of the guys standing around agreed to cut it by hand. I measured out the length I needed and told him I needed 12 the same length and he got to work, using one to measure the next.

Meanwhile, I continued walking to find the top boards. I found some 1x12 boards (approximate) that would do and began discussions on how to cut them. I measured and the top one in the stack was 400cm exactly. So, I asked him for 6 of them, all cut in half. I later discovered I should have specified an exact length, because they were not all the same. I got home with 12 boards ranging from 195cm to 212cm.

Once we agreed on the cutting, the guys sat around looking at me. I was wondering when they were going to start cutting them. Then I realized, there was only one saw. They had to wait until my frame pieces were cut. So, we sat in the sun for about half an hour waiting for my 12 boards. I did finally suggest that I pay for them while we were waiting, to save time. They didn’t seem concerned one way or the other, but were willing to take my money. But, I had to go to the cashier shed – not because there was a cashier there. The guy who took my money was the same one who sold me the wood and he walked over there the same time I did, but I guess that’s just how it’s done.

On the way back to the office, Max said that of course, he’d be happy to help unload the truck. Never looking a gift horse in the mouth, I was grateful for the help – but it was not needed. The moment we pulled up in front of the building, a swarm of children descended on the truck like locusts. If it had been a crop it would have been picked clean in a matter of moments. The smaller ones carried a board between them (or I should say above them, since they all carried them on their heads) and the older ones each took one. The next thing we knew the truck was empty. Max had taken a couple boards on his first trip, but I never made it with a load at all. I was too busy trying to ensure the kids didn’t bean each other with these two meter boards on their heads. I had visions of Stan and Ollie – one turning around with a ladder under his arm and whacking the other one into next week.

That was enough for one day.
XO