The Sparkin' Swing
Ma and Pa Cauhape stepped away from their screens and assembled a porch swing to enjoy summer evenings while the house cools off. Here's the saga of mechanical and marital bliss.
Photo by Sue Cauhape
Sometimes an ordeal of great frustration can bring unanticipated joy. Such was the case when Jeff, and to some extent, I assembled a porch swing.
Jeff already had planned his own projects for the weekend, but I inserted a honey-do that neither of us thought would take that much time. Because some of my most cherished memories from childhood occurred in a big, covered porch swing, I had wanted one for quite some time. So I suggested we get one this weekend. Jeff obliged.
Because of our Great American Girth, we had to find one that could hold our combined weight without collapsing under us. The store assistant at the second big-box home store assured us adamantly that he had just the right swing for us. Its weight capacity was 600 pounds.
Counting on our fingers, Jeff and I realized this could accommodate us, but neither another human being nor one of the dogs could join us. We'd be taking a chance holding a tray of chips and salsa.
After Jeff made a special trip with the trailer to retrieve the thing, he laid out all the parts on the patio, having already checked them for completeness at the store. You see, he's had experience with assembling things, especially when they are manufactured in a certain far-away trade partner.
Satisfied that all parts were present, he started on the first part of the project. I held up the end braces as he joined them with the proper nuts, bolts and washers. Of course, he couldn't tighten them completely until he had fit all the braces and brackets and wedges and triangles together because a couple of them weren't exactly true to spec. No surprise there.
The instructions touted this product could be assembled in half an hour. After the first hour and a half, we realized that factory employees probably timed their own speed after having assembled dozens of these things and already knew what went where and what little tweaks and twists were needed to fit this puzzle together.
We finally finished the job three or four hours and a trip to the hardware store later. Jeff thought it was global progress that we only had to make one trip to the hardware store to find bolts that would fit the holes drilled in the frame.
Later that evening, Jeff and I tried out our swing, wine glasses carefully in hand. Nothing creaked as we slowly and cautiously settled our bodies into the swing. Nor did anything groan as we gently pushed backward to start movement. We were so proud of our accomplishment, especially since we were able to do it together without argument or marital duress.
As the summer breeze cooled the evening and the town lights twinkled like a jeweled necklace in the valley below us, Jeff took my hand in his and said, "This is very pleasant. I'm glad you suggested this."
"Yeah, it was well worth all the hassle, wasn't it? And we have all summer to enjoy evenings like this."
"Yes, all summer. By the way, what did you call this swing earlier?
Remembering how we named our double sleeping bag "The Giggle Bag," I gave his hand a squeeze and said, "The Sparkin' Swing."
Great American Girth! Good heavens, yes... I loved this sentence, "We were so proud of our accomplishment, especially since we were able to do it together without argument or marital duress." A testimony to your love and respect for each other.
Oh Sue, you're adorable. Loved, loved, loved this story. I wish you and Jeff many, many more happy hours together on the Sparkin' Swing, and indeed on your gorgeous red chairs. xxx