Ever gone to look for your sandpaper and not have the right grit? So
you make a run down to the HW store and pick up $3 worth, that with gas
and mileage probably makes it a $5 hit to the wallet. Get home and use
the sandpaper and then need some clever place to store it? Inevitably I
decide to put it right on top of paper that is the exact grit I was
trying to find originally ...
Hey, just lay down and play "snow angel" for awhile. You'll find it.
========================================================= CAUTION: Do not use remaining fingers as pushsticks!
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You know, Rod Serling could have made a couple of episodes out of this
And remember one of the wrecker life's axioms:
"If you lose a tool, chances are 7 to 3 it will be part of a set."
And that REALLY frosts my cookies. If I lose, say, one drill from a
set I can't rest until I replace it. A set of anything with a hole in
it is so-o-o-o-o-o irritating. Like a big smile from Raquel Welch
with one of her front teeth missing.
<Maybe my therapist was right!>
"Cut to shape . . . pound to fit."
=====================You have any 10-15 year old sons....?
Mine used a lot of my ..too good to throw away
but not needed Stuff ...at that age...unfortunately they
switched to tools when they turned 16 and got their "wheels"....
There's something kind of gut-wrenching about finding a 3' piece of
surfaced 1x8 white oak with a couple dozen 16d nails through it into
an old 4x4 to make an "airplane".
Raising kids costs a lot more than money...
I remember breaking off chisel tips when using them to open paint cans. At
six years old, using a screwdriver didn't appeal to me somehow. I remember
the time my father lined an entire wall in the basement with custom built
shelves and sliding drawers. One day I "decorated" them extensively with a
few writing utensils. And then there was the three level clubhouse I built
in the backyard. It towered above all the fences and dividing bushes in all
the backyards in the block. It must have been the most tremendous eyesore,
yet I don't remember my father once getting angry at any time for any of
these things. At least he didn't show it.
It was only a number of years later that I realized that I must have been a
major contributor to the gastric ulcer he endured all those years.
I was about 4 when dad, in his spare time, was building the house I grew up in.
Dad would sometimes have to keep me while he was working on the house so he
found ways to keep me busy. One was to give me a 2x4, some 10 penny nails and a
hammer and send into the back yard. Well, first I got into trouble for pounding
the nails into the ground because that went much faster than trying to pound
them into the 2x4. But later, after watching him nail in all the maple
flooring, I decided to emulate him. I put a row of about 9 10 penny nails about
1/4" or so deep into the nicely & newly finished maple hallway floor. Mind you,
I don't remember any of this. Knowing my dad he had to be a little mad at the
time, but he loved to tell the story over the next 35 years.
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