For months I planned the shade room. I sketched it out a dozen times, listed materials and calculated cost. I planned the shaderoom with an old-fashioned tin roof, cedar-trunk corner posts and a dirt floor. I planned on screening it in for a cool place to sit with my morning coffee, a shady place to serve breakfast or supper -- away from the heat of the day and the buzz of the bugs.Himself, on the advice of those that know, talked me out of the cedar posts. They will rot and not last long. We should use treated 4 X 4 posts. Okay, I agree, but still planned the tin roof and the three, screened walls.
The day came to order the material and standing at the counter of the local lumberyard, (not a home center, mind you. a lumberyard) I am told, "You have to special order the galvanized tin; the tin is not stock material". Himself says, we may as well shingle it. "Shall we shingle it?" So, in the heat of the moment with the lumberman frazzled, tired and overworked and Himself just wanting to get the job started and done, in a matter of minutes we figure the shingles and the sheathing for the roof and idea of the tin roof ripples away.
Standing at the counter, I showed Himself the sketch I quickly drew, figuring three sheets of plywood to cover the 12 X 12 roof. It looked too good to be true; no cutting, just lay three sheets of plywood, alternate directions, up on the rafters. Look at this, I said, does this look right? Ok, he said and we recited the order, wrote the checkand hightailed it to III before the lumberman could change his mind about the delivery.
After an afternoon of hard and rewarding work setting the corner posts, it came time to sit and reflect on the afternoon's accomplishments, to admire our handiwork created from 4 X 4 posts, cement premix and pond water. You are going to be short plywood, he said, and I got my sketchpad and studied and pondered and reluctantly agreed that in those moments at the counter of the lumberyard, that while calculating our needs I did, indeed, short us on the sheathing for the roof.
So it was planned that I would pull the trailer to town the next morning, brave the wrath of the frazzled, tired and overworked lumberman and ask him to cut two sheets of plywood and "while you are at it, toss in another (60#) bundle of shingles" and, and "yes, I know you want to be out of here by noon." Himself would stay behind; he would cut and hang rafters so that upon my return we could, at full speed, prepare the roof and start to shingle.
And it was done. I pulled the trailer. I braved the wrath. I bought the material that would finish the roof of the shaderoom.
Himself executed nicely. He labored and sawed and drilled and corrected my architectural mistakes and because, in my calculations, I was south one foot there is a special corner in the shaderoom called "Nancy's corner". Because I believe that good comes of difficult situations, Nancy's corner will be commemorated. Perhaps it will be stained glass. Maybe there will be a child-sized door, a secret egress. Maybe it will just be painted differently than the rest of the cabin.
I enjoyed the planning of the shaderoom. I enjoyed the adventure of the "doing" and solving the problems and correcting the errors. I can rejoice in Nancy's corner because I dared to dream it and Himself and I dared to do it. . . . the other side
People need dreams, there's as much nourishment in 'em as food.
Dorothy Gilman
