Sunday, March 8, 2015

Passing it on

Day 8 of 31 days of writing!
As I slowly shake myself out of a blissful fog, a muffled cacophony rises through the heating vents and up the stairs. Sometimes, it's clanging metal or heavy pounding. Other times, it might be the rhythmic purr of sawing or the soft, gentle cadence of sanding.

For a moment, I think I'm a kid again, nestled in my twin bed while my dad works on some project in the basement. But these sounds are even sweeter now, because they're accompanied by cheerful voices: one teaching, one learning.

"Ok, so it looks like we'll need 8 1x3's, minus whatever I have at home... write down '8-something 1x3's... and those will go over here, then we'll need some metal brackets... write 'metal brackets'..." My dad has an incredible mind for planning projects.

"Well, watching and asking questions is how you learn! I learned most of this from watching Grandpa... here, do you want to try the next one?" From staining and spackling to miter cuts and door installation, Daddy always shows Husband what to do the first time and then lets him try.

For a quirky engineer, my daddy is sure a good teacher!


  1. I loved your post as it reminded me of all the times when you were your Daddy's helper. The poem "I wished my Daddy wouldn't fix things anymore also flashed into my head." Great detail and strong verbs for the sounds of work and I love the relation to teaching. I always thought your Daddy was a good teacher too!

  2. The skills get passed on from one generation to the next. The sounds are comforting as your husband learns from your dad.

  3. Aren't dads the best? I just love this slice and curiosity is getting to me ... are we building something for the baby GIRL's room? (Yea! So excited to hear that news!!!)


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