I thought I had a Tight Grip on things. Skilled and practiced grasp necessary for that type of work. Ascending to greater heights, encouraging others by modeling. Things were going my way.
Not my first rodeo so I knew enough to Be Careful. But the higher I got, the more cocky I became. Reached for more than was prudent. Not that I hadn’t had that rung before, but the burden of an ever expanding tool belt, that one additional tool as it were, is what brought me down.
All of this went through my mind Sunday on the quick trip from 7 feet above to the ground. Landed on what some would call my best side. Cracking my forearm on a pile of inadequate studs. Hematomas coloring pride and flesh.
And after The Fall, Right Back Up.
If you want something built right you have to do it yourself. You should expect a fall or two along the way but if you really believe in what you are doing all the bumps and bruises are worth it. This time each piece of wood hand selected, measured and precisely cut. A sound structure able to withstand the most blusterous, bullying winds. Standing the test of time while lesser structures rock and roll across the plains.
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