I don’t remember it hurting like this!
My life playing construction worker has come full circle, and boy is it painful.
My grandfather and my father spent their working lives in construction. One of my uncles was a home builder. They seemed happy. I watched them; it looked fun. Heck, I was going to build things, also.
After completing a few construction and architecture classes at the local community college, I took a job with the area’s largest home builder. I was making decent money and driving a brand new car(s). It wasn’t long and I found that I was good at building houses. (I mention this because I had a huge ego back then. I still have ego, but now it is just good sized.) It wasn’t long and I found myself in charge of men twice my age.
Several times I realized it was time to stop playing and get back to school. My employer raised my pay and convinced me to stay a little while longer. The next step; I found myself married, then a homeowner, then a parent. (the new cars were gone) Ah heck, I might as well stay in construction.
After a few years later, I was offered a job to remodel a fast-food restaurant (the mascot wears a crown) in Louisiana. Driving to Louisiana from Colorado, I passed a least 200 restaurants exactly like the one I was driving almost 2000 miles to remodel. Couldn’t this company find something closer to home for me to play at? I was wondering if this was going to be a good idea.
This job was the first of almost thirty years of crazy. I have communicated with construction workers in four languages; English, Spanish, Polish, and Cajun. I have been across the table from billionaires (with a “b”).
I have escorted a billionaire’s mother while she went house shopping. Heck, I even mowed Grandma Billionaire’s lawn. I have lived in apartments and motels in over twenty different states. I have been in a small plane being flown by a pilot that I saw a couple years later featured on a “60 Minutes” segment. (The “60 Minutes” segment was NOT about his piloting skills.)
All of this was because of construction.
As time went on construction became more about safety meetings, daily reports, schedules, OSHA, and less about hammers and saws. It was time to put the tools back on and build something.
My buddy and I are building a garage in Wyoming. Now construction is about sunburn, back aches and avoiding heat stroke. I speak two languages now, English and foul. I’m having fun.
If you are wondering what this has to do with a yarn store blog, hmmm, I guess I am too.
Did you know the store is involved with a yarn crawl next month? I dyed some yarn for a lady. It was rose colored. There, now I feel better.
Our crazy lives!
Monner