Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On

By Jimmy Buffett,

I come across this song but the last verse makes the most sense:

According to my watch the time is now
The past is dead and gone
Don't try to shake it just nod your head
Breathe in breathe out move on
Don't try to expain it just bow your head
Breathe in breathe out move on

Back to the Red House in JHB Park!

Getting the rafters up by lunch and finishing rafter ties.

My job: Nailing Hurricane clips to the rafters. Because I got scared of the Nail GUN! I like the old fashion way anyways.

Showing the hip and valley of the rafters moving up and down in the 2x4 beam.

Enjoying the form of the roof taking shape like the waves in the sea.

I could not get over this view.

This is Jason, he was standing in this position often.

Sarah and I started on the prelins (?word and spelling)

For the last two days I have been working with Jason (Gulf Coast Community Design Studio) and Andy (a fellow minnesotan) at the Red House in John Henry Beck Park. From the start I was toenailing rafters, nailing without the use of the 'nailgun' (which by the way scared me today as I was able to shoot double time... too fast for me) and soon fearlessly climbing around to take measurements or nail. Whats fun about construction is the complete satisfaction of accomplishing a task, learning at every moment and getting better at it. I like this, like it a lot.

Summer boating itch satisfied!

What a sexy bench! at John Henry Beck Park

This bench design is/was copied from the 239 Nixon house we worked on over the semester_ nice to see good ideas used more than once.


6.7.07 My first day of constuction work and here I sit with Kirsten, George's girl from Scottland, as we finish our big accomplishment for the day without the help of the guys. As the boys sat around and thought about doing work and then left in the afternoon to go buy materials to work the next day; we kicked ass from start to finish completing the back to the bench. Let's just say Chicks Rule!

As the back porch sits today waiting for a wavy roof to be added within the beam created by gluing, nailing and bolting eight 2x4's.

Get a tattoo you F'ing pussy!

As I sat at a pizza place in Mobile, Alabama and a guy with tattoo sleeves walks to the jukebox behind me, my friends across the table smile and giggle a lil'- I say "what?" and they point the the back of this guy's shirt. 'get a tattoo you fucking pussy!' I smile and think of the tattoo I have been staring at and talking about for the last two weeks. I decide tomorrow after work I will just get it and stop being a pussy. I felt like it was also something my sister would say and took it sort of like a sign. Americorp's training with Red Cross happened on Friday so we had a half day and I am in the tattoo shop (Jack and Dianne's, the place where many Hand's On volunteers go to get tattoo's) by 4pm. I get nervous and start talking about where, why, what and how I have wanted a tattoo for a while. I have Ben and Sameen with me for support who joined Americorp's with me at the same time. We wait a bit and I see a guy who looks like the pores of his skin are seeping with blood. 'Don't look' Sameen says. Ben goes to buy batteries for my always dead Nikon digital camera. The guy comes back with my tattoo redrawn and its all wrong, I say it need to be exactly how I drew it, he comes back again with it exactly how i drew it and then I ask for a pencil to just fix it myself. This guy probably thought I was nuts. Once I was satisfied with my drawing and ready to start, I actually looked at Ben and Sameen as if they were proud parents, especially since Sameen started snapping photos every few minutes. The guy sprays my back, something feels like he is exfoliating and then as I asked what he is doing as he puts down a shaver. "You just shaved my back?!" - 'Yup' - " You did not even tell me!" - (pause) 'I just shaved your back' Telling a few jokes we laugh a bit and he places the tattoo transfer. Laying belly down on the bench by 5:00pm I start to get anxious. How bad will it hurt? I clench my teeth and get all squirmy like a child who is about to get tickled to death. He starts and I smile, it almost tickles. This is not so bad. Soon I ask how far he is and he is not good with fractions but its less then half. Then, the initials are done. Then it hits... I drop F bombs and make the oh shit that hurts face. My palms are now sweaty and he stops once in a while to get more ink_ he is coloring in. He says I am doing great, he starts telling me about this girl he is dating who is giving him a two-part gift and can't understand why because he has only seen her twice. (like this helps me or something?_I say "she abviously likes you a lot") I want to scream at one point and I found out later that its the lowest part of the tattoo. ( I think, 'thank God I didn't ask him to reposition the tattoo just a bit lower!) 5:09PM I am done. Done?! Already??! This is it. I did it. Forever with me, exactly how I drew it. I smile, can't believe I am out the door at 5:15 and now entered the tattoo community. As we drive back to base I say, "I think this will be it, no more of that for me." For the next few hours it feels like someone is slowly and constantly ripping a piece of duck tape off my back.