Concrete man, at last

Well they finally called him to come to work. 7:30 for training and then out onto the jobsite.

"I'm dyin' here..." And that was at lunch time.

"I can't remember a day when I've ever worked so hard." But that was late in the evening, after most things that could go wrong did.

There was the day spent in the sun on the business end of a shovel, cleaning up after the trencher.



Lunch? No, nothing to eat, just a break sitting in the back of the car with the hatch up.

Later, they pour about a hundred yards of concrete.

Uh oh, a little after 5 and the keys are discoverd locked in the car.

And of course the cell phone battery is so near to dead that it starts beeping at you after about a minute.

The day cools off. Breezy, in the 50s and going down. It's been two hours, and he waits in the portapotty trying to warm up.

Finally the spare key arrives.

This is one of those times when a shower feels simply incredible, and so does the old twin bed. Tomorrow he'll do it all again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Postscript
It's the next morning. What an education he's getting. "You know what really hurts? My fingers!" And off he goes.

Learning patience

My son taught me patience last night. Now, if I were the reader instead of the writer, that would immediately bring to mind two questions.

Isn't that a little backwards? Usually we think of the parent teaching the child.

And aren't you stretching the truth a bit? One doesn't ordinarily learn patience in the space of a decade (for some, a lifetime) let alone an evening.

Well, in the words of either Horton or Dr. Seuss, I meant what I said, and I said what I meant.

We've had this tavern puzzle around for nearly 20 years. The particular puzzle is called Patience. My father brought it back for me after some trip, perhaps one of their visits to the Smokey Mountains. The information sheet that came with it says 1989 and there's no Web site listed, which isn't surprising for that era. I fiddled with it from time to time over the years, but mostly it just sat.

I sent it along on one of the boy's road trips this summer, figuring it might offer a good diversion for a few hours of interstate travel in the back seat while on the way to this or that roller coaster.

And he figured it out. But that's not the best part. Last night, which is just in time because we're taking him back to college tomorrow, he showed me - and then patiently taught me - how to do it.

My son was very proud of figuring it out, I could tell. It turns out the other guys on the trip tried it after he had worked the whole thing out, but they quickly became frustrated. I think he was proud, too, that I stuck with it.

We discovered after my tutorial that the company does now have a Web site, www.tavernpuzzle.com. Now, instead of having to write for a solution sheet, you can view it right online. The catch is that knowing and doing are two very separate things. Trust me: you won't spoil the challenge by looking at the directions.

So, now he says it's just a question of which other puzzle he wants to order. Seems like something has captured his fancy, and again, I'm proud of him.