Earlier this week I told you the story of the first house I ever built. As my luck would have it, the next year, I had to build another, just a little bit bigger and better than the first. I even put a floor in that one. Sort of. And over the past 15 years, I’ve had many an opportunity to improve my carpentry and construction skills A few more little houses and hopefully I will have it figured out.
So, as you can figure, I have a great appreciation of tools. I like them. I use them. I want to know where they are when I need them…
Now, working with a family of carpenters, ranch hands, and mechanics means tools are a hot commodity. And not every one in this household is big on putting tools back where they belong (insert a subtle cough-cough here).
A few years ago while participating in the Race for the Cure in Denver, I purchased a pink hammer. It was a fundraiser for breast cancer research. I felt at the time it was money well spent for a good cause, and the purchase of another hammer would never be a waste of money in this household.
But what I didn’t know at the time and have since learned, boys will NOT use a pink hammer. No way. Why is that?
The great thing is, that hammer is always where it belongs, in the tool box on my work table. Always. Isn’t that funny?
Now I’m wishing all my tools were pink…
I’d start with a pink tape measure.
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A couple of end of week notes here:
First: For all you motorsport fans, Forrest is back up and writing again on his blog, High Country Hillbillies, since he’s back up and riding again. Now it’s dirt bike season. The snowmobiles are retired for the season. Not every mothers dream come true to have your baby out there on the mountain on a motorbike, but I’ll put up with the gears and grease as long as he still keeps up with his chores and schooling and writing…
Second: Dealing with loss… I admit I am not very good at. A week later and the tears are still plentiful. When do we “get over it?” Do we ever? Will acting tough eventually make us tough?