The Tedious Tale of Zip Frame #2 — part five

It was a quiet Saturday morning in late July. My boy was asleep, enjoying the peace of his sister being away at a friend's house. It was, after all, one of the last weekends of summer, before starting a new year of school. 

The sunrise was slowly filling his room with a luminescent yellow glow. All was quiet and still.

It's a perfect set-up for the tranquility to be shattered by the sound of a lawnmower, or a neighbor's weed-eater, right?

Not exactly.

The tranquility was shattered when I started the saw. Its blade caught the dense grain of the heavy mahogany board, kicking the saw back and slamming the board down onto the slab of plywood it was clamped to. The plywood was clamped to a pair of sawhorses, several feet above the concrete floor. Concrete floor. Cinderblock walls...

The acoustics were perfect.

I pressed the saw back into the board with more determination, and the fight between me and the mahogany was on. The sound was like a booming symphony of drums at a rock concert... only less rhythmic. And for a sleeping teenage boy, far less pleasant.

What did I care? I had ear protection.

I was determined. After all, within this expensive chunk of wood lay the deck beam for frame #2, which hadn't been touched since February.