I could see my father working further down the fence-line. He was focused on the task of making fence-post-holes, the crowbar rising and falling rhythmically into the dry summer ground. He had left me on the wagon of fencing supplies, parked alongside the fence-line with instructions to follow him, pounding the for-mentioned fence-posts into the ground.
My excitement of being alone, and in charge, on the wagon with all the supplies was quickly waning. The "I'm the King of the Castle" ditty quickly vanished as I began preparing to pound in the first post. First, I had to chose a post from the pile in at my feet in the wagon.
I considered this choice very carefully. The reason was that this was just the thing I'd been dreading. I would have to strike the seemingly very-very small top of a post with a lot of force, with a very large heavy hammer. A hammer with, by the way, a very long handle. I had envisioned this in my mind many times, but there all of this seemed so easy. Now, with real posts and a real sledge hammer laying before me I suddenly felt pretty panicky. Reality was setting in. I picked the fattest post I could find.
Next I began pouring water into the hole from the height of the wagon. This was easy and fun. I lingered, pouring it in drips, watching the arc of the water, wiggling the pail sideways watching the water go back and forth. I also watered the weeds beside the hole as it was very dry for them I was sure. All, of course, to prolong the inevitable. Knowing full well that my father would be frustrated with me for wasting water and time. I glanced in his direction, no problem he was busy.
I picked up the "fat" post I'd chosen and stuck it into the hole, leaning over to position it in line with the rest of the fence.
Then, I picked up the sledgehammer. I loved the feel of the handle, a very smooth oval shape. Not round like a broom handle. I needed to get to know this thing. Next I held it by the hammer end. This way the handle seemed so light, and I could swing it around so very easily. I looked at the fencepost, tapping the top with the handle end, wishing that I could pound it in with that end of the tool. At least I could control that end much easier! Of course the post just stood there laughing at my feeble efforts. I began using it as a cane, handle end down. I self consciously glanced up and noticed my dad had stopped and was staring in my direction....
The moment of truth had come, I grabbed the handle, my left hand at the end and my right hand near the hammer. I placed it on the top of the post. It wiggled. I was reminded that I had not yet "set" the post in the hole. I slid my right hand to the very head of the sledge, and grabbed the post with the left as far down as possible, as I was afraid I'd slip and hit my arm while taping the post in. Again I placed the hammer on the top of the post. The post moved, my hammer wobbled. When I tried to lift the hammer to tap the post I had no leverage as my left hand was way too low as it steadied the post. I had to slide it up much higher so I could actually lift the hammer with my right hand. I felt like a total idiot and wondered if my dad was looking.
I decided I'd lay the hammer on it's side and in this way managed to strike the post a few times. It did move down a bit and did become more stable. As I repeated this I gained more confidence, striking harder and getting some results. So now the post was finally "set."
It was time to strike the post for real and so resumed my original pose. My left hand on the end of the handle and my right close to the hammer end. This I felt was necessary for control. I certainly had no confidence in any kind of swing with both of my hands together at the end of the handle! I placed the hammer on the target, and began with light taps on the top of the post. I was quite satisfied with the results and my confidence slowly grew as my taps turned to "hits." The post was slowly moving down with each strike. The problem I discovered was that my power was limited in this position as I was not able to really put full weight and power into the swing as I'd hoped. The harder I swung the more vibration I got, jarring my right hand located low on the handle, going up my arm and into my shoulder and neck area. This was very disappointing. It became clear to me that for the post to really go into the ground I was going to have to hit it much harder than this stance seemed to allow. But, I was certainly not ready to do the "windmill" like I'd just seen my Father do.
I needed to experiment. Possibly something between the windmill and my first idea would work. I grabbed the handle halfway up with both hands together. I placed it on the post, then pulled it off letting the hammer swing down between my legs. I let it swing back and forth increasing the momentum till I was ready, then swung it forward all the way up over my head. The change in weight caused me to scramble back and forth to keep my balance. I looked at the post, shuffled my feet till I thought I was in the original spot. Then, with all my might brought the sledge down onto the seemingly very small top of the post.
At contact I had two sensations at the same time. I saw something glinting in the sunlight, slashing through the air before me. And, my hands were instantly numb with vibration and shock. I stood dumbly staring at my "empty" hands. What in the world had just happened?
As I stood there in a daze of numbness, I became aware of a half-ton truck slowly coming into my consciousness. It was rolling to a stop in a circle of dust on the other side of the fence before me. May heart sank. Had somebody actually seen me do this? Oh no, how embarrassing!
Two people emerged from the dusty work vehicle, huge smiles on their faces. It was Jack, one of my uncles and his daughter Donna. They lived next door about a mile away and often just dropped in unannounced, usually during some kind of embarrassing moment, just like this one. I realized they had totally seen my disastrous attempt at striking the post.
My uncle, chuckling way too much came towards me, picking up the sledgehammer as he came towards me. "I saw what happened Mike," he chortled, his weather beaten face all wrinkled up in a huge smile, "you know that post saw it coming and jumped right out of the way."
He handed me the hammer with a wink. "Don't worry, you'll get him next time!"
He went off to talk to my dad, chuckling, leaving me mortified, with a giggling Donna!
"Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life..." Matthew 7:14
Spring Buds
No comments:
Post a Comment