The price of safety

A month or so ago, Nick and I noticed that a few boards on our deck were disintegrating. Dry rot. Uh-ho. A quick investigation showed that it only affected six boards, so we did our best to keep people from falling through the increasingly large hole in our deck until we had the time to replace the wood.

Getting them out wasn’t all that hard – a jig saw and hammer did the trick. We had a circus-style near miss, however, when Keith … oh, whoops! I promised not to tell.

The next step was cutting the boards to length and banging the tongue into the groove.

Getting the first board in was quite a trick. It didn’t want to seat properly, so I grabbed a block of wood and hammer to convince the board to go where I wanted it to. The most convincing thing I did, though, was hammer the knuckle on my left index finger. Yeow!

I covered up my rapidly forming bruise with a band aid right away, so I really don’t know how bad it is. Bending it feels bad; ice feels good. If it’s particularly gruesome, I’ll post a picture later.

In the mean time, we had a hole to cover. Measure twice; cut once!

A few screws to hold everything in place and a bit of oil to keep the rain away, and ta-da!

With any luck, the boards will get that weathered grey color sooner rather than later.

 

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