Swinging

Today I worked on an old house in the neighborhood of Oakwood in Raleigh, NC.  I'm pretty sure I'll have dirt floating around in my veins for the next 4 days.  This house is old.  Like really old.  There's dark dust floating on the rafters.  It's everywhere.  


So the boss man says, "hey, demo that there wall full of bead board."  And the bead board has been sitting on "that there wall" for the last 50 years.  Nailed to a tower of pine studs by some man's hands with really, really old nails.  It turns out that those nails are really hard to remove.  Not to mention, there are about 10,000 nails in this 2,000 square foot house and all of them need to be removed.

So I get to swinging.  That floating dust just sinks into my hair and turns me grey.  All I can do is swing and then pull.  Repeat.  Swing and then pull.  This continues for who knows how long.  But I get to do some "demo" jobs too which is a nice "breather."  For those that don't know, "demo" means demolition.  It's kinda like grabbing that baseball off the mound and slinging it as hard as you can.  Then the scene changes.  I've gotta get all this "stuff" off these old 50 year old pine studs.  

So I climb.

Climb?  Yeah that's right.  I grab a ladder and start climbing through the studs so I can swing my hammer on top of them.  Rip that "there bead board" right out of its home and back into the earth.  And I sling that hammer and push and pull those old rusty pins out of that twisted wood.  It's not easy either.  Can you believe it?  Those nails would rather just stay where they are.  But I can't let'em.  No mam.  So I repeat this routine again.  Swing and sling.  Push and pull.  

Then a phone call, and it's time to go.  I didn't finish this day, but maybe I will on the next one.  Yes mam.  Maybe I will.  That swinging will have to wait till tomorrow.

Goodnight.

-r

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