Oh god, etc.

M found out yesterday evening that the steel for his house wouldn't be ready until later in the week, so there wasn't any point in his driving to the city to pick it up. I admit I was looking forward to a day that didn't involve rebar, but it was not to be - we were out again this morning bending, cutting, tying...ah, the pleasure.

We did a rough calculation that we've put in just under 1200 feet of rebar and gone through over 600 feet of tie wire and I don't know how much 6-gauge mesh. It took just over 300 wire supports for the mesh alone. Today we cut, bent and installed 61 vertical supports, the need for which had completely escaped our notice until yesterday afternoon. Yeah, that was fun. Uncle Murphy slept in, though - the acetylene tank sputtered empty just as I finished cutting the last of 40-odd stakes we needed to hold up the bulk of the verticals. Bending 5/8" rebar with a manual bar is more like a good workout than "oh god, please shoot me and make it stop," as long as it isn't hot, which it wasn't. So all in all not too bad. And with the exception of a tweak here and there, we're finally ready to pour concrete.

And pour we will - the trucks are due on Friday! M's out rounding up willing neighbors right now. Soon the hole in the ground will be filled with nice smooth concrete, and we'll be ready for the part that actually makes you feel good at the end of a day's work.

About two hours into the morning, M and I got to debating which we hated more - rebar, or the rocks that get in the way every time we try to hammer rebar into the ground. They're both inanimate objects, and violent hatred toward either doesn't really seem all that rational most of the time. Yet we hate them both now. Rebar - it must be said in its defense - has the virtue of being an integral part of the constructive process. Without it, further building really wouldn't make a lot of sense. But its apparent endless nature makes it worthy of the vilest emotion. Is it only the nature of its make-up or genuine malice that causes it to tear your hands, gouge every body part into which it comes in contact, and apparently erase itself from building plans until incrementally revealing itself, so that each time you think you're finally done with it, more appears? Is rebar truly evil? I think - yes, it truly is.

The rock, on the other hand, gives its all to impede the work process, standing athwart progress and yelling "Stop!" If only we would listen to that clarion call, leave the tools to rot in the sun, go home, mix some juleps, and forget the whole thing! How much happier we'd be!

Yes - the noble, despised rock, like Cassandra, so very right and yet so tragically ignored. If only - Ah, if only we would learn the lessons it seeks to impart.