Laurie and I are looking ahead to 2025 and moving back east. I think I have one more house in me, as long as it's not too big. It will very likely be my last opportunity to build as close to perfect as I can, something of real appeal since so much of what I've built over the years was done under significant time and money constraints. I recall that my first ten plus years of carpentry ('79-'90) was filled with the tap-whack-smack of 8 penny nails in decking, wall and roof sheathing, long before I got my first nail gun. That tempo never leaves you. I dreamt it for years. The first time I danced a waltz I recognized my old buddy tap-whack-smack. This, as well as so much else, is dedicated to my Laurelei. Hand In Hand When it’s nearly over I’m going to build a house for you, our last house, by a lake. I’ve missed the tracking sound of nails finding their way. First tap to stand on their own, the second to travel most of the trip and the third, a short drive home. And while the hammer falls and the dance instructor calls one, two, three, one, two, three, my free hand fumbles for your hand and the next nail’s head and sets him in place for the next tap. That is the tempo for a long lasting house, nail by endless nail, plank by plank, wink by wink. I hold your hand in a gentle hammer grip as we find our way across the dance floor built by a long and loving waltz. 11/22
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Now this poem just made me subscribe. That was beautiful. Touching. The house, the dance, the love. Thank you
Smoochy and sweet!