Today I cut down half a tree. Actually it was more like 2/3 of a tree. I went to work this morning not planning on spending any part of my day pretending to be Paul Bunyan, but I left work with a valuable lesson about the power of physics and the mystery of gravity.
I must be completely honest in stating that I was not really the primary lumberjack, in fact I was more of an assistant. And since I have already mentioned Paul Bunyan, it would probably be best to align me with Babe the Blue Ox, Paul's faithful friend who pulled trees and hauled supplies.
I, with the eventual help of a beat up pick up truck, was the tree puller. The Blue Ox.
When I arrived on the scene I was handed a rope and told to help pull on the tree while our version of a red plaid clad Paul cut the large pine in a pie shaped cut called a "notch". Once the notch was removed, he began cutting the back of the tree and the cracking sound of anticipation began. We gazed in awe as the tree began its slow fall towards us.
Pull! PUll! PULl! PULL! NO....RUUUNNNNNN!
We ran fast.
Once the noise had stopped, we looked behind us to see that the tree had simply tipped over on to large Birch tree. Crap. All that anticipation for nothing.
After a lot of hum hawing and walking around the tree (not too close in case it started to fall) and chopping with an ax we decided that we needed reinforcements. Here is where my heroics began. With a fresh bowline knot tied to the back of the pick up truck, I extended my right foot to the floor and pulled. And pulled. And PULLED.
As I looked over my shoulder, I caught just a glimpse of the falling tree as I heard the panicked yells of the other lumberjacks and floored the truck.
Victory. It had fallen.
Well, no. 2/3 of it have fallen. The other 1/3 still hangs 50 feet in the hair, caught on a tree, dangling where you can't reach it with a ladder and you can't pull it with a rope.
Crap.
Grade: D+
11.10.2009
10.28.2009
Land Surveyor
I would like to see the thigh muscles of all land surveyors. Those guys (and girls) must have legs of steel. Today, I was a surveyor. I walked. And walked. And walked. What made my experience so much fun, and yes a heck of a lot of work, was that my land is a swamp. And I am not talking about the kind of swamp that has a few cattails and a couple long pieces of grass. I am talking the kind of swamp where you are standing on hard ground one second and waist deep in water the next second. There were a few times when the ground beneath us literally started to sink.
"Don't stand too close to me!"
"Keep your feet moving!"
I was given the task of walking the perimeter of our four 40 acre lots to check for trespassers (not sure what I would have done if I saw any), maintenance issues (its all swamp and forest - maintenance issues were EVERYWHERE) and just the overall quality of our property. We also used GPS units to mark important landmarks (like the outhouse and beaver dam).
Some information for you lay people on the distances involved.
40 acres=1,742,400 square feet
So each side is 1,320 or 1/4 of a mile.
Therefore if you own four 40 acre pieces each side is 1/2 mile long.
Making the perimeter 2 miles.
We walked 4.56 miles. Through the swamp. And the raspberry bushes.
The math just doesn't quite add up.
Grade: B
"Don't stand too close to me!"
"Keep your feet moving!"
I was given the task of walking the perimeter of our four 40 acre lots to check for trespassers (not sure what I would have done if I saw any), maintenance issues (its all swamp and forest - maintenance issues were EVERYWHERE) and just the overall quality of our property. We also used GPS units to mark important landmarks (like the outhouse and beaver dam).
Some information for you lay people on the distances involved.
40 acres=1,742,400 square feet
So each side is 1,320 or 1/4 of a mile.
Therefore if you own four 40 acre pieces each side is 1/2 mile long.
Making the perimeter 2 miles.
We walked 4.56 miles. Through the swamp. And the raspberry bushes.
The math just doesn't quite add up.
Grade: B
10.20.2009
Electrician
Today, I electrocuted myself 3 times. I had the job of replacing 2 electrical outlets that had cracked. Simple. Remove a few screws and a couple of electrical leads, put in a new outlet, screw it all together and Presto! a new outlet.
Don't worry. I am OK.
The first time, I touched what I thought was a piece of plastic and realized that it was not a piece of plastic. Obviously. Plastic doesn't electrocute you. A slight tingling feeling spread through my left hand.
The second time was about 2 minutes later, when again, I reached around the back side of the outlet with my right hand and as soon as my left hand touched the screw I was trying to screw in....zzzzzzt! This time with a bit more gusto.
The third time, a mere minutes later was the worst. When once again my left hand became the victim of my right hands inability to stay away from metal, but whole body actually jumped a bit. I threw my screwdriver down and looked in horror at my fingers, expecting them to look singed. But alas, no black marks. No lasting battle wound to show off to my family and friends to prove that I had been in the trenches. I had taken my electrical licks and lived to tell my story.
Grade: D+
Don't worry. I am OK.
The first time, I touched what I thought was a piece of plastic and realized that it was not a piece of plastic. Obviously. Plastic doesn't electrocute you. A slight tingling feeling spread through my left hand.
The second time was about 2 minutes later, when again, I reached around the back side of the outlet with my right hand and as soon as my left hand touched the screw I was trying to screw in....zzzzzzt! This time with a bit more gusto.
The third time, a mere minutes later was the worst. When once again my left hand became the victim of my right hands inability to stay away from metal, but whole body actually jumped a bit. I threw my screwdriver down and looked in horror at my fingers, expecting them to look singed. But alas, no black marks. No lasting battle wound to show off to my family and friends to prove that I had been in the trenches. I had taken my electrical licks and lived to tell my story.
Grade: D+
10.03.2009
Valet Attendant
One day I parked cars. I parked cars for 200 people. All in all it was a great job, but the only hitch was that I was 14. I learned to drive a car when I was 12, but the extent of my driving experience consisted of doing laps around the roads close to my house in our old pick up truck. Usually the driving included a large quantity of manual labor. I think it was my mom's way of making sure that I did work in exchange for driving practice.
I remember hauling wood one day and on about the 3rd or 4th load, I went to nudge the truck backwards a bit more so I could get closer to the pile and accidentally slammed on the gas. My unexpecting, wood hauling assistant, who was standing behind the truck, luckily threw herself out of the way just in time to see the tailgate of the truck slam in to an upright pole in the center of the shed.
So when I was asked to park cars at the ripe age of 14, you can imagine my surprise. I was further shocked to learn that I would be parking said cars on a large field across the street. At night. I enlisted my friend, we will call her Sally, to assist me. Armed with glow sticks (to help direct traffic), bubble gum and sun flower seeds (to kill time) and a never ending supply of caffeine, we set off to move cars around in a giant ball field.
No cars were crashed. No cars were stolen. I didn't even hear about a car that got dirty.
Success? I think so!
Grade: A
I remember hauling wood one day and on about the 3rd or 4th load, I went to nudge the truck backwards a bit more so I could get closer to the pile and accidentally slammed on the gas. My unexpecting, wood hauling assistant, who was standing behind the truck, luckily threw herself out of the way just in time to see the tailgate of the truck slam in to an upright pole in the center of the shed.
So when I was asked to park cars at the ripe age of 14, you can imagine my surprise. I was further shocked to learn that I would be parking said cars on a large field across the street. At night. I enlisted my friend, we will call her Sally, to assist me. Armed with glow sticks (to help direct traffic), bubble gum and sun flower seeds (to kill time) and a never ending supply of caffeine, we set off to move cars around in a giant ball field.
No cars were crashed. No cars were stolen. I didn't even hear about a car that got dirty.
Success? I think so!
Grade: A
10.02.2009
Plumber
Today I was a plumber. I used the thin white tape and the little leather strappy thing that you tighten stuff with. I laid on the floor and turned rusted nuts. I used "Liquid Wrench" (which smells super good by the way) and most importantly I got to pour anitfreeze down a whole bunch of drains.
Plumbing gets you wet. I started working at 8:00 and by 9:30 my pants were wet. You turn the water off and you would expect that you wouldn't get wet, but not true. Water comes out of everything. It comes out of the shower heads, the shower temp controls, the sinks, the drains, and everywhere else that it possibly could. The perfect moment came when I was taking a shower head off and WHAMO, water in my eye!
When you winterize a toilet here are the steps:
1. You use the strappy tool to take off the flush-o-meter (the top of the toilet)
2. You take out the little plunger thing.
3. You use a bailer thing (a pump with a hose attached) to take out all the water in the bowl
4. You use a turkey baster to take the water out of the flush-o-meter.
5. You pour 2 cups of marine/rv antifreeze in the flush-o-meter area.
6. You should see anitfreeze come out in the bottom of the toilet.
See! Moderately good at winterizing toilets. Real plumbers would laugh. Some of you are probably trying it now.
Do I know how to plumb (is that the right word?)? NO! I have learned that you turn, jump on, twist and flail until you get the heavy steel or iron stuff to do what you want. I am an expert at Bradleys (those round or semi-round sinks they have at schools). I can fix a foot pedal or a soap dispenser...no problem.
And did you know that you have to change out those O-ring things every year or at least every other year? And that copper tubing is good, unless you live in the middle of a cold ass tundra and then not so good...it sweats...and freezes...go with pvc. And that snakes are awesome! You can use them for EVERYTHING!
Today I was a plumber.
Grade: B+
Plumbing gets you wet. I started working at 8:00 and by 9:30 my pants were wet. You turn the water off and you would expect that you wouldn't get wet, but not true. Water comes out of everything. It comes out of the shower heads, the shower temp controls, the sinks, the drains, and everywhere else that it possibly could. The perfect moment came when I was taking a shower head off and WHAMO, water in my eye!
When you winterize a toilet here are the steps:
1. You use the strappy tool to take off the flush-o-meter (the top of the toilet)
2. You take out the little plunger thing.
3. You use a bailer thing (a pump with a hose attached) to take out all the water in the bowl
4. You use a turkey baster to take the water out of the flush-o-meter.
5. You pour 2 cups of marine/rv antifreeze in the flush-o-meter area.
6. You should see anitfreeze come out in the bottom of the toilet.
See! Moderately good at winterizing toilets. Real plumbers would laugh. Some of you are probably trying it now.
Do I know how to plumb (is that the right word?)? NO! I have learned that you turn, jump on, twist and flail until you get the heavy steel or iron stuff to do what you want. I am an expert at Bradleys (those round or semi-round sinks they have at schools). I can fix a foot pedal or a soap dispenser...no problem.
And did you know that you have to change out those O-ring things every year or at least every other year? And that copper tubing is good, unless you live in the middle of a cold ass tundra and then not so good...it sweats...and freezes...go with pvc. And that snakes are awesome! You can use them for EVERYTHING!
Today I was a plumber.
Grade: B+
9.30.2009
Firefighter
I’ve fought 2 fires in my life. Scratch that, I’ve fought 2 unplanned fires in my life. One was an accident the other a freak electrical malfunction. The extent of my training is learning P.A.S.S. - Pull Pin, Aim, Squeeze and Sweep from Side to Side - in my junior high science classes (something that in hindsight should have been a warning for what was to come in those classes).
Fire #1
It is cold where I live. Not just cold like when you have to throw a light jacket on after the sun goes down, or an extra set of socks when you go outside to play, but cold like your snot freezes in your nostrils when you walk outside and your hair freezes on your head if it is wet when you leave the house. People plug their cars in with little electric blankets at night. So, when it gets cold. We light fires. The kicker is that we have to light so many fires that the ash builds up in your fire place. And then you can’t just let it sit and completely cool because you’ll freeze. And if you have ever had frozen snot you would know that it really isn’t that comfortable. No, it is downright uncomfortable. So when the ash builds up, you throw it out. And here, we throw it on the bank leading down to the lake...not in the lake. Don’t worry we love Mother Earth as much as the next outdoors enthusiast.
The problem comes when there are dead leaves on the ground that catch on fire...So, one fine day our bank lit on fire. Our fire department consisted of me, with all my training from that science class and some guy from England, who I am sorry to say started the blaze, and spent the majority of the time apologizing and saying “Oh shit” in a polished british accent. Our first class equipment packs contained rakes and a couple of fire extinguishers. It seemed like every time we thought we got it out, another little flame would emerge from somewhere beneath the leaves where it had been lying in wait for one of us to turn our backs. We figured out that if you swing the rake violently towards the flames and then vigorously grind the small breaths of satan in to the ground. Have you ever stared fire in the eyes? I have. It is terrifying, yet enthralling. It’s like that sexy, dangerous guy in the leather jacket standing against the juke box, smoking a cigarette with one hand and casually clutching a beer bottle between the index and middle finger of the other, while some 80’s hair band song creates soft vibrations in the cloud of smoke. Where do those guys hang out? You never see them anymore...
We fought that fire with everything we had. Our brows dripped with sweat. Our hands were covered in soot. We circled slowly until the sun went down. And finally we stood, leaning on our rakes, as the final flame extinguished. We had fought that fire and won!
The next morning we walked down to check out our work. Small flames licked at a nearby tree....
Grade: D+
Fire #1
It is cold where I live. Not just cold like when you have to throw a light jacket on after the sun goes down, or an extra set of socks when you go outside to play, but cold like your snot freezes in your nostrils when you walk outside and your hair freezes on your head if it is wet when you leave the house. People plug their cars in with little electric blankets at night. So, when it gets cold. We light fires. The kicker is that we have to light so many fires that the ash builds up in your fire place. And then you can’t just let it sit and completely cool because you’ll freeze. And if you have ever had frozen snot you would know that it really isn’t that comfortable. No, it is downright uncomfortable. So when the ash builds up, you throw it out. And here, we throw it on the bank leading down to the lake...not in the lake. Don’t worry we love Mother Earth as much as the next outdoors enthusiast.
The problem comes when there are dead leaves on the ground that catch on fire...So, one fine day our bank lit on fire. Our fire department consisted of me, with all my training from that science class and some guy from England, who I am sorry to say started the blaze, and spent the majority of the time apologizing and saying “Oh shit” in a polished british accent. Our first class equipment packs contained rakes and a couple of fire extinguishers. It seemed like every time we thought we got it out, another little flame would emerge from somewhere beneath the leaves where it had been lying in wait for one of us to turn our backs. We figured out that if you swing the rake violently towards the flames and then vigorously grind the small breaths of satan in to the ground. Have you ever stared fire in the eyes? I have. It is terrifying, yet enthralling. It’s like that sexy, dangerous guy in the leather jacket standing against the juke box, smoking a cigarette with one hand and casually clutching a beer bottle between the index and middle finger of the other, while some 80’s hair band song creates soft vibrations in the cloud of smoke. Where do those guys hang out? You never see them anymore...
We fought that fire with everything we had. Our brows dripped with sweat. Our hands were covered in soot. We circled slowly until the sun went down. And finally we stood, leaning on our rakes, as the final flame extinguished. We had fought that fire and won!
The next morning we walked down to check out our work. Small flames licked at a nearby tree....
Grade: D+
All I Need is a "C"
I love my job. I love that every day I walk to work. I love that every day I arrive at the office, with very little idea of what I'll be doing by lunch time. I love that when I am half way through one task, I stop and then start three more. Sometimes I finish the first task, sometimes I don't. Sometimes it matters, sometimes it doesn't. And most importantly, I love that by being moderately skilled in a whole bunch of smaller jobs makes me moderately good at my job as a whole. I am not expected to be more than moderately skilled. In fact, depending on the task, I am celebrated for being average. Moderate. Average. A "C" folks...all I need is a "C".
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