On July 4 through 7 (Wednesday through Saturday) Dad had four days off work in which to put up the shed. Uncle Alan would be here to help on Thursday and Friday. The lumber had been delivered and we had been able to finish the sill plates, band boards, and some of the floor joists ahead of time. It still seemed like a lot of work for a 4-day period, but with a good start, and Sam Potter here to help, we hoped to get it under roof by the end of the week.
Saturday was hot and sunny. Taking the shingles to the roof was a task I dreaded, seeming like a job far bigger than me. One bundle was a chore of its own! But they had to go up, and there was no one else to do it. Alan was gone, Donald had to pack for his trip overseas, and Dad was not quite up to it. Well, if you must, you must! Holding a bundle over my back with one hand and holding onto the ladder with the other, I made one slow trip after another. The edges of the shingles had a way of digging into your neck and shoulder and backbone.
Thinking back now, it was not as bad as I expected it to be. What would have been far worse is a fool’s wrath. Yes, a stone is heavy, and the sand weighty, but a fool’s wrath is heavier than them both. A fools wrath is a severe hindrance to a team that is trying to work together and I am very grateful that we did not have to deal with such a weight in our project. To tell the truth, Dad, Jonathan, Sam, and I had a jolly good time up there! And before evening on Saturday, the roof was finished. Victory!