Circuits

Tulum, our long-since, dearly departed dog, before lying down, would paw and circle and scratch at the floor (outside he'd get to the ground much faster) until he had created his perfect, invisible to us, space. With a grunt and a sigh, he would then plop contentedly. John, the electrician I use, reminds me of Tulum.

John comes to a new job and creates his space not by pawing the floor, but by complaining. His initial bursts inevitably end with a comment about how he should leave and come back another day. When he arrived Thursday, Adam and I were still working on the roof, and hadn't removed all the studs from around the slider, where switches needed to be installed. Waving his finger back and forth, John offered, "I thought the framing was all done, and I'd come and finish in a day. This is not too good." That reminded me that the complaints had begun before he arrived.

"Are you putting that addition on piers?" John asked over the phone. The last job we worked on together was without a foundation, and for this one, Adam and Tricia had decided piers were sufficient. "Yes, John, it's hard to get machines behind the house, it's more expensive... ." "But," he interrupted, "a nice foundation gives you a room for storage, it really is handy." He uses that word handy a lot, but usually to illustrate the benefit of doing something the "right" way.

When Adam talked about running #12 wire to his addition, John jumped in and said, "That's okay for one circuit to the computer, maybe if you're running an old commercial, heavy-duty type printer, but I won't run it to the other circuits." John, like Adam, talks fast, but he slowed down to emphasize that printer. "Homeowners buy #12 because it's only five bucks more a roll and they think they are getting a deal, but it's not necessary and it hurts my hands to work with." How many other electricians will defer work because it hurts their hands? When Adam brought up the radiant floor heat he needed wired, John said, "I wouldn't put that junk in my house." For John, electric radiant heat resides, crumpled, in the disdained waste bin called "New Fangled." If something was good enough for his father, it's good enough for him. When we trudged to the basement to look at the electrical panel that needed to be updated to circuit breakers, his first comment was, "I can't put in a bigger panel, the opening is too small." He ignored the two guys flanking him. Adam with easy access to a hammer and a saw and me reaching for my hammer. Finally, on our way back to the addition, standing under billowing clouds and blue sky, he brought up the leaving bit.

It's funny but I forgot that he arrives on a job like a jumbo jet without landing gear, and I wished that I had said to Adam that along with impeccable work, John brings his sizeable presence. Rather than just praise, "He's like you, Adam, a perfectionist." "If you have any other electrical work, have him do it. You'll never get it done for less." I should have volunteered, "Put your shields up, Adam, weather the storm as I have learned to do, then watch the master at work."

John didn't leave. He simply returned to his truck for his tools. He had made this space his space and like Tulum, he was ready to settle in.

Windows

A bay window is hard to carry, necessarily weighted to one side by the glass, and without real sides, only sharp corners to grab, the heavy window wants to tilt away from your grasp and go splat on the ground. I realized that, when Adam and I moved it from the delivery truck to the garage, a few scrambling feet away. It's not that different from carrying an extension ladder vertically. If you can keep it perfectly plumb, it's heavy but doable, but once it begins to lean, look out.

Adam picked up the front of the window, his chest and face against the end mullion, me carrying the back, and walking forward. I knew Adam and I couldn't haul this thing the sixty or so feet alone, and was happy to see Lukas grab the center, chest against the glass, and do a remarkable imitation of a scurrying crab. Very quickly, in spite of Lukas's center position, the window began to tilt toward Lukas and away from Adam. Now, Adam, whose un-gloved hands were being sliced into by the corners of the carrying block, is struggling as much to keep the window balanced as to support it. From my position, I could see through the glass his bulging eyes and crimson face, when he begins to shout, "Michael, stop pushing it over!"

Was I really the culprit? I don't know, because I was holding as much weight as I could manage, struggling myself to keep it upright, and felt no control. I was now running behind that extension ladder. But now, however much I was handling, was halved because I was laughing. And hard. I always laugh in situations like this, heavy object but frighteningly little control. I remember years ago when I helped Dan move a refrigerator from his second floor apartment above the Blunda sisters in Somerville. An impossibly heavy appliance, teetering on the steps threatening to squash us, and all I could do was laugh. Why not just wrestle alligators and get it over with? But now, in addition to the absurdity of moving this thing without a dolly, I can see Adam, twice as strong as I, looking like a cartoon character sputtering expletives. And Lukas, who has to be a middle child, is straining to carry the whole thing himself. I couldn't help but think of The Three Stooges, better educated, maybe, but no more coordinated.

That was it for excitement, because between rest stops we managed to move the window to the backyard. I've installed many windows in the past, but none as easily or, thanks to Adam's attention to detail, as precisely as the bay and the longer, heavier, but easier to carry, casement window. When Adam told me that Mark Garabedian and Luke were coming that morning, as well as Mark Queijo, I was tempted to say we didn't need the extra help. I was thinking of sufficient help, not as the window directions suggest, "sufficiently strong help." We would have managed, just the three of us, but it would have been a tendon-tearing struggle and not, as it was with that one exception, a relaxed adventure. With Lukas always looking to carry more than his share, Mark G spitting out problem solutions as fast as Adam, and Mark Q, a combination of the two, this Saturday sailed by.

John wiring from below.

Mark, Luke and Mark admiring the newly installed bay window.

Mark helping Adam level the bay.

The roof with skylights framed and without (mostly) the ubiquitous blue tarp.