Our life

Once upon a time, I considered myself to be a pretty decent story teller. I think the alcohol, over the years before, has changed that.

Either I was a great story teller, but the alcohol has impaired that ability.
Or
The alcohol impaired my ability to recognize that I was not, in fact, a great storyteller.

Either way, I am going to tell you a story. Its a story based on true events, still unfolding. A heroic tale of a soon to be father, loving his wife, while battling the demon known by him as “the mirror”.

The story all began in late 2005, when our hero (whom I shall take the role of, for the moment) and his wife (who we shall call C, for the story’s sake) moved into their new home. It was a magnificent home, complete with all the amenities a couple could ask for. One of these features was in the master bedroom. You see, there’s 2 closets: a his and a hers. The “his” closet frames one side of the “hallway” leading towards the master bath, as seen in the picture below:

(Here’s where I take on the hero role, for the sake of time)

Shortly before we moved into the house, I took on the task of painting the room. At the end of that hallway stood a small mirror. C loves mirrors (what gal doesn’t?). I didn’t like the framing to it, so I decided to build a new frame out of Cedar. As I sat the mirror into the cedar, it broke *snap*, and came crumbling down. Saddened by this event, I vowed to replace it one day. In the interim, we used a smallish, stand up mirror.

Then one day in 2006, I put an ad up on Craigslist, desperately seeking a new mirror with exact dimensions: 39.5 x 78. Lo and behold, the ad was answered! And for the price of FREE, so we picked up the mirror. As luck would have it, I did not have the time to install said mirror. So it sat in what is now the nursery, as a glorified headboard for visiting dignitaries, with the intentions of being installed soon.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. Months passed, seasons changed, birds chirped, etc. Then, one day, while in the midst of completing everything else I had to do, I decided it was time to tackle this project.

I measured the mirror. 78 x 40. I measured the opening. 78 x 39.5. I scratched my head. How does one cut, cleanly and with limited tools, 1/2″ off of a 78″ long mirror? The answer to this riddle was found…

with a hammer and chisel…

It’s simpler to cut a channel in the drywall than it is to cut the mirror. So that’s what I did. Now you see, the mirror is 3/8″ thick; or approximately as thick as 2 chisels, laid back to back. With that thinking in mind, I knocked out about that much drywall for 79″.

Feeling triumphant, I test fit the mirror. Those that understand physics will know that, when angling something into place, you must first make room for said angle. There’s a mathematical formula for that. I don’t know it, but I figured it out after attempting to lift a 50 pound mirror into place by my fingertips. So I did some more chiseling… this time compensating for that angle needed.

Feeling proud of my handiwork, I attempted to fit again, this time with the hangers in place. Apparently, those hangers, while small, take up space too. So I once again compensated.

The last time almost did the trick. The mirror is now hung, but not cleanly. There is a point, somewhere along the channel, that is higher than the rest. As such, it is holding the mirror into place by wedging it. I supported the mirror in several places. I did this to counter the wedging, and prevent the ability for the mirror to jump from the wall and shatter in the middle of the night; sending our cat across the house, the dog barking, me into a panic, and C into labor.

As I contemplated the next logical step, I came to a realization: the drywall must go. Brilliantly simple. I had planned on still doing this job myself when The Mack just happened to come by early Tuesday morning to discuss the list of items for the guest bedroom. It was suggested that perhaps he could help with this demon mirror. After a moment of contemplation, he attacked the demon mirror, viciously removing all remnants of drywall standing in our way.

With the drywall removed, the mirror sat precisely as expected. The demon had finally been beaten.

And they lived happily ever after (I’m too tired now to come up with a better ending)

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 29th, 2008 at 20:13 and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.