BruceHartman.net

I’ve been meaning to share this anecdote for a quite a while.

I think it took Mike much longer to build my deck than he imagined. His first estimates had us finishing up possibly in one day, but certainly within two days. In the end, between my constant questions and challenges, it took Mike four visits to finish the project.

Naively, after Sunday came and went, Mike seemed to think we’d be able to finish after work one evening. I know… God supposedly created the entire plant kingdom on the third day, but Mike and I only managed to a install one of the large posts and finish the steps.

The large posts that adorn the seating area are actually six inches square by ten feet long pieces of lumber. We’re talking seriously heavy duty stuff. They’re not called for structurally, but they make one hell of statement architecturally; and by all means, if you’re going to include 6×6 timbers in a design like this in the first place, you might as well integrate them into the support structure. In order to do this, Mike notched each one to slip over and under the edge of the deck. Because the posts are rather unwieldy, it takes a bit of effort to get them situated correctly. Not only do they need to be centered horizontally, they need to be plumbed up and down in multiple axes.

So, we plopped the post into its hole and on top of a hunk of cinder block. Mike began to use the level and I was on my knees levering the post to make it sit true, when, all of the sudden, a frog jumps down into the hole. The hole where I’m pushing and pulling on a sixty or eighty pound piece of wood. The whole where I’m about to pour forty pounds of quick-setting concrete mix that will harden around the post encasing anything that’s in the hole in a hot rocky mass.

Not knowing about the wayward amphibian, Mike started jerking on the post to move it more than adjust it. I shouted for him to stop and reached my arm all the way into the two-foot deep hole.

“Hold on,” I said. “There’s a frog in the hole.”

“Don’t worry about him.”

“Hold on.”

“Well, get him out.”

I will, just hold on a second.”

“Hurry up, man.”

“Chill out. He keeps running around the other side of the post.”

“Give me a break,” Mike said as he joined me reaching into the hole as we tried to remove the dumb little frog who’ll be dead pretty shortly.

“You know we’re not pouring the concrete in there till we get him out, right?”

“It’s just a frog,” Mike said with a laugh. He knows how weird I can be about things like this, but he’s actually a big softy too, and wouldn’t have done it anyway. He’s just taking the opportunity to screw with me a little. Mike is a joker of the highest order, and when we’re together at the office “Screwing with Bruce” is his all time favorite hobby.

“There’s no way I’ll be able to enjoy this deck if I know we killed a frog to build it,” I said.

“I know.”

After a few minutes more of back and forth we finally got the little guy out of the hole and finished setting the the post.

Shortly thereafter the skies clouded over and began to threaten a thunderstorm. It was also pretty dark by then so we called it a night.