Speedy Erection Construction

The concept is literally as old as the hills: You scratch my itch and I’ll scratch yours. Or as it applies on The Bell: You help me finish the interior of my upstairs bedroom, I’ll come help you remodel your bath/laundry room. There is no statute of limitations, so there is no reason to rush into anything.

Original cabin: doors and windows not included...

As old as the hills? In June of 1984, I added on to my original 16 by 20 foot cabin, a two-story rectangle, 20 by 28 feet. Two of my brothers and a neighbor from across the road, worked on the construction of the “addition.” 

With the perimeter foundation already in place, the crew assembled on the designated Monday morning to begin the project, and by Friday the structure was built, sheathed and roofed, weather-tight and ready for the following winter. 

I lacked the pecuniary measures to defray the cost of a construction crew, so I did the next best thing: I logged in my time prior to the week of the project, so that in essence, I prepaid to have my home built. Despite my lack of experience, my time was traded equally for that of my two brothers and my neighbor, Rex, whose specialty was quick-construction.

We called ourselves “Speedy Erection Construction” and despite the moniker, we left our customers satisfied.

Rex had added on to his own home the previous summer and coincidentally, I had labored on the project without being paid. The understanding was that when I was ready to begin my addition, I would let Rex know.

Tom, circa 1972

I worked with my brother Tom on a week-long endeavor to improve his road, including the installation of a culvert at one particularly treacherous juncture, where the road crossed over a seasonal creek bed. This took place earlier that spring, with my own project just starting to take form. 

How much experience does a person need to shovel dirt, sand and gravel?

My brother Matt was adding on a little covered deck to the front of his home, so ours was a natural trade. Once again I managed to have already performed my part of the bargain, so that when I launched my own project, I had my crew all lined up.

A year ago Christmastime, while BossLady was visiting back East in Ohio, I cruised up to HeadSodBuster’s spot, to help him finish the interior of his upstairs bedroom. The architecture is unconventional, in that the roof peaks in the center, and there are a multitude of angles. 

Having served during my declining [construction] years as the sawyer, angles are my specialty. I have always felt that looking at life from as many different angles as possible, is the best way to go. I enjoyed the finish work immensely, which always surprises me. After much contemplation, I have decided that the reason I did not like finish work back in the day, is because in order to do it properly, it takes time.

As we all know, time is money. Now that my time is my own, it is my own to do with as I please. Having completed the framing and sheet-rocking in the bath/laundry room, I anticipate with a great deal of relish, the tackling of the mudding and painting of the rock.

As noted in an earlier piece, I will do a textured surface to the sheet rock, not because it looks so gosh-darned professional, but because I am unable to do smooth-wall to my own satisfaction. I find this entire job to be a pleasing combination of the left and right brains, the two working together for me, for once.

I say right-brained because from the minute I conceived of the project, I have had to expand my paradigms, refusing to kowtow to the reality of physics. I wanted to fit a 36” by 36” shower unit, a 32” door, and a 27” washer into a space a foot shy of the necessary dimensions.

The back of the shower extends 12 inches
into the kitchen.

Rather than compress either the washer or the shower unit into a smaller version of itself, or cut a third of the door away, I decide to expand the bath into the kitchen. With the original 16’ by 20’ cabin serving as the kitchen/pantry now, I could afford to sacrifice a three-foot by twelve-inch encroachment, in order to achieve my three-pronged goal.

Also helping me to achieve my goals is SmallBoy, who has committed to the chore of relocating the detritus from the job to the recycling center. Chore? Its more like a Herculean task. At times such as these, I always like to reflect back on the wise words of me father, “’Tis better to give than to receive.”

As colorfully chronicled in this space last August, ( http://markyswrite.blogspot.com/search?q=board+stretcher ) I built a power shed for SmallBoy, a project that included my nephew Jay, a dude whose enthusiasm for the farm in general, spilled over into construction. 

Over the course of a couple of weeks, never working more than four hours a day, we hammered out that shed, thus ensuring that when I needed his help, SmallBoy would reciprocate in a big way. That’s what I’m sayin’/talkin’ ‘bout.

HeadSodBuster and the author of Mark's Work,
February, 1984, literally in the trench of the addition...

With Gluten-Free Mama house-sitting down in Willits these past six days, I hunkered down in the trenches and confronted the enemy face-to-face. Let me tell you, it’s hard to get anything done in a trench, let alone when you are hunkered down, so I abandoned that approach and went for the jugular.

[Editor’s note: Never metaphor you didn’t like, huh?]

Slaving away, as many as sixteen hours a day, I refused to get bogged down: bonged down-possibly-but not bogged down. The job has been a joy, and try selling that line to my lower back and reconstructed right shoulder. 

Somehow I did, and all I really would like to get done today is to install the just-belt-sanded, tongue-n-groove, one-by pine on the laundry room ceiling, insulating as we go. At most it is a two-hour job and one that will transform the appearance of the laundry room into a facility that will make you forget that you are there to wash dirty clothes.

In times of dirty clothes, I like to remember that the laundry room also serves as the smoking room.