Holding Down the Fort

It was Monday and Phin had to work late, making it a perfect time for one of my projects.

It really started on Friday, when Phin was determined to buy and build a gazebo-like tent for our back patio.  Of course his project did not end on Friday, but took until the wee hours of the weekend.  We managed to have the inaugural meal in our “Idaho Room,” as this screened gazebo is now called, around 11:30pm Sunday night.  It was tasty, the air was warm, and the bugs were kept at bay.  We enjoyed our summer salad, with thoughts of baking being nowhere near the surface of my conscious.

Monday’s beautiful blue sky projected an innocence of any future (or past) sinister weather.  Nearing dinner, I decided to rummage in the pantry to see what I could find.  There was not much in the way of food, but there did seem to be plenty of useless ingredients.  Marked and unmarked baking supplies have been moving with me from kitchen to kitchen, giving the illusion of a well-stocked pantry.  Disappointed, I stepped out to be greeted by an unusual darkness.  I looked outside and saw a row of ominous black clouds bullying their way, gobbling up blue sky, and headed my direction.  The poor fragile gazebo was giving way to fear and shaking in its spindly legs.

I called Phin to have him stop for a rebar support system and urged him to hurry home.  I then went on a search for heavy items that could be used to keep the gazebo more or less in place.  Weights from Phin’s bench came in handy for one of the corners, but it was soon apparent that this was not enough.  That is when I remembered my earlier foray into the kitchen; I finally found a great way to use those mysterious white powders. 

With flour, sugar, and powdered sugar, makeshift sandbags were created.  Some of the flour had a best used date from 2009.  No wonder my bread (ok, the one loaf I attempted) turned out a little dense; I had mistakenly blamed the yeast.  “Well, if flour gets heavier as it ages, that can only be good for my sandbags”, I thought.  The bag of powdered sugar was not really worth its weight, but the brown sugar was as good as gold.  In no time at all, I had my sandbags assembled.

By this time the gazebo was trying to shimmy off the patio.  I placed the sandbags and went back inside to watch the forces of nature battle it out: Gravity vs. Wind.  It was an exciting hour, Wind was using intimidation tricks with pelting raindrops, but Gravity was holding its own.  Wind picked it up a notch to the roaring approval of thunder, and I knew I had to give Gravity a hand.  Although fully convinced of Benjamin Franklin’s experimental results, I reluctantly grabbed two metal rods in a lightning storm.

And so there Phin found me, 20 minutes later, practically flying an iron kite, wearing rubber crocs for safety.  We were mostly intact, with only one or two bolts missing.  Later that night I learned the wind had been 40mph with 60mph gusts.  The sandbags have been retired from active service, but here’s hoping that one day soon they turn into cookies.

The above is a "re-enactment photo" as there was no time to get an actual action shot.  You can see the rebar support system in place, and a calm netting.