January 26, 2019 – Girl power

         I am in the middle of transforming my old office in the formal living room back into a residential living room.  Out the office furniture went.  Then I went “hunting” – yes, that is the phrase I learned from the gals down here for flooring.   I found it and then I went on the warpath for paint.  I’ve been collecting paint samples for four months waiting on the January project start.  I will blog about the paint color soon.

         But, I also bought a heavy duty scaffold.  I have a high peak in the center of my home that I cannot easily reach it on a 6-foot ladder.  It is just not safe for me at this point in my life to be teetering on a 6-foot ladder to do the ceiling trim and the high walls.  And, yes, I have tried the long pole roller and I seem to get more paint on the floor than on the walls.

         My man, Larry, - a friend that does work for me when he has time is my handy-man.  I talked him into helping me get the scaffold [in a box] from the Harbor Freight into my living room in the pouring rain.  By the time it got from the store into his truck and then out of his truck and then on a hand truck to the front steps and in the house – the cardboard box was sopping wet.

         It was extremely heavy for Larry – or more awkward and heavy.  That gave me self-doubts that I would be able to put it together myself.

         The next day after a cup of courage – ahh – coffee that is – I cut off the carton, and with the help of my husband set the pieces out and looked for the directions.  Then, the cardboard took a ride to the trash dump [convenience center is what they call it here] and I sat and read the instructions.

         I found the instructions too simple – that scared me into self-doubt. Only six steps – how is that possible? I put in a crisis call to Larry that I might need his help.  The conversation was left open-ended.

         Then I chatted with my jack-of-all-trades brother telling him I didn’t think I could put it together without the help of a handyman and he said,

         “It only weighs 100 pounds.  How many pieces does it have?”

         “Five”,

         “Five pieces – probably none weight over 25 pounds each.  You can lift that.”

         I slept on that after reviewing the instructions again and the next day I had enough courage to plan on asking a favor of a woman friend.

         Couple more days went by and now it is Friday and a friend was coming by to visit and I made Biscotti for her.  She admired my new second Monique – just as she did years ago when my first Monique was slimmer and in a black slip and floral hat.

         We had Biscotti’s and then I gently asked her to help me put the scaffolding together.  When my husband went off grocery shopping, I fished out the directions and we went through the six simple steps.

         “Step one – Wheels,” I said and read the instructions and put one on.

         “WOW that was simple.” While I did my second wheel, my friend grabbed a wheel and did one and then the fourth one.

          “We are on a roll!”

         Then we put the side rails on after an exhaustive search for my tape measure to see exactly how high I wanted the platform. Never did locate the tape measure – now added to my buy list. We guestimated.

         Looking at the directions – we figured out the side rail attachment to the end frame.  My friend held it upright and I pulled the lever spring and snap it was together, then I followed up with the safety pin.  “Oh, slick snaps in.”

         We were pleased with ourselves and the second side rail attachment to the same end was just as easy.

         Then things got a little hard – until we figured out how to turn it over and down so that we could attach the side rails to the other end.  On the second attachment, one of the wheels took a flop and I caught my middle left finger momentarily under the pending weight of the frame – “Ouch” I pulled it out before the full weight took it to the mat.

         “Are you okay, is it broken?”

         “No, it still bends,” I said checking it.

         “We need to ice that right away.”

         “Yeah, as soon as I get the safety pin in,” I snapped the pin, “Pin in – break time,”  I called back to her as I headed to the refrigerator for ice cubes and a towel.

         We took a 5-minute break as I iced and watched my middle finger turn a serious shade of blue.

         More concerned questions came from my friend . . . . she’s a nurse – she knows how bad it can be.

         “No, it is just a pinch – it isn’t broken – see – I can flex it – YUP turning a nice shade of blue,” I was calm – it was okay – I was trying to assure her.

         She was still concerned.

         After the five minute break, we turned the scaffold on end as she made sure we missed the ceiling fan – good job – that!

         Then we put the platform on.  Our first attempt didn’t go to smoothly, it slipped right down through and she caught it.  But, on the second try – we put it into place perfectly and snapped it on with the clamps.

         Four bolts and it was done – actual time without the icing down of the bruised finger – about 20 minutes.

         “WOW – Girl Power in action.”

         We high fived and accomplished this without hard hats or leather tool belts.

         We took selfies to celebrate!

         The finger – it’s okay – I’m typing with it.