Counterweights

The spinnaker set packed up this weekend, the regatta over, and this picture from the event's amazing official photographer, Tim Wilkes, certainly described how I was feeling today: atilt.

(Take a look at the water color, by the the way, and then think about our guest room baths.)

Darren and Santos were at the house, caulking and filling back and side walls and being incredibly supportive. Yet it was one of those days when it all seemed as if the boat was about to flip.

Maybe it was the hundred or so details I still feel iffy about -- every doubt, ding and dread -- or a bad case of so-close-and-yet-so-far, or my fears of Code Enforcement and the certificate of occupancy. . . .

I try not to let the guys know when I'm in one of those moods, so I was concocting reasons to take my worries elsewhere when Franklin pulled up to work his continuing magic on drywall. Then Arnold swung by, and then his lady friend from the thrift shop up the street to look at what we've done to Marvin's house, and then Matt, another floor guy, to scope out the job for a bid.

I was showing Matt around, and we were upstairs, with Franklin working away in the upstairs bath, when he said to me, "You're really mellow for someone at this point in a project. That is so amazing."

I almost felt like crying, but I said to him: Well, I could take it out on myself and everyone else, but I'd rather just keep going with a smile.

And it occurred to me later that I was so lucky: Everyone here is on the same side of the boat, using every ounce of his weight to get that extra inch, that extra second, toward the finish line. Another truth: Weights vary, but when people apply all they have, that's all they have, and you can't ask for more.

Franklin is a great case in point. (This is my favorite picture of him, mixing mud last month.)

"You know, Mr. T, this is gonna be a real pretty house." I thanked him again for his great part in making that way, and mentioned how much trouble the tile guy had with the surfaces he was now repairing.

"Well, some people wake up every day wondering what's gonna go wrong. What an awful way to live."

A-men, brother. And I went away wearing the smile he'd given me.