Christopher's Journey: Sometimes it takes being lost to find yourself

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  “On the count of three, men.” Mr. Browley rang out. “One, two, three...” The men all grunted and groaned as they lifted the last of the barn frame. Mr. Edmund scurried to pound in just enough wooden pegs to keep the wall up while everyone still held it.

  All the men had worked the entire weekend to shape the logs in order to make the skeleton frame for the barn just as they had with the house.

  With only two tools available to do the job, Mr. Browley and Chris worked on that while everyone else shaped out several piles of dowels to hold the logs together when the time came. Chris actually knew the tool they used to shape and smooth the logs. He had used a modern version of this tool in shop class in his middle school years. He hadn’t realized how long the carpenters Adze had been around.

  The house was coming along nicely as well. It would have been done by now if Mr. Browley had not insisted on stripping all of the bark off of the logs before stacking them up on top of each other for the walls.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave the bark on?” Chris asked his future father in law before they began working on the house.

  “No, we need to get this bark off before preparing the wood.” He replied handing Chris a chisel looking tool he called a barking spud. “Bark prevents wood from drying quickly and it will eventually loosen and fall off anyway. You don’t want to compromise the integrity of your walls, do ya? Besides, many insects live within the bark which could cause a problem.”

  ‘He would know better than I.’ Chris thought as he gave him a nod of understanding.

  A faint chime echoed through the air as the women signaled that it was time to eat. They had prepared dinner for the men in the sod house while they feverishly worked on both the barn and the house.

  All the men dropped their tools, almost in unison and headed toward the sod to fetch their meal and be able to take a rest.

  Chris, however, wanted to finish the log he was working on before taking his break. He stood astride the log and swung the adze downward toward his feet, chipping off pieces of wood, moving backwards as he went leaving the log with a smooth surface.

  When he reached the end, he placed the tool on the log, stood up straight and wiped his brow. The gentle spring breeze helped cool his head as he took his hat off allowing the wind to tousle his wet hair.

  He took a look around the property. Everyone was getting their plates of food and either plopping down on the grass or finding an unoccupied log to sit upon to enjoy their meal. The house had walls up halfway and the barn frame was done. He felt an overwhelming sensation of accomplishment knowing that this was their new home and he had helped build it. It seemed more gratifying to be able to live in a place that was crafted by his own two hands.

  He shook his head like a dog and placed his hat back on. He slowly walked down to the sod house to join everyone else.

  “Quite the dedicated worker.” Mr. Browley stated teasingly.

  “I just wanted to get that one log done before taking a break.” Chris stated taking the plate Miss Emma May handed him which held a thick piece of homemade bread covered with roasted beef next to a pile of fried potatoes. The entire plate swam in gravy and smelled heavenly. “It’s the last we need to finish the house walls.”

  “That it is. With all the hands we have here, this has been a smooth process.” Mr. Browley stated. “You will be able to move right in after the wedding and begin working the fields.”

  Chris couldn’t imagine having to do all that work himself. The property behind his was smaller than Mr. Browley's property and they had handled it fine before Chris came along. A feeling of independence and pride came over Chris knowing that his hands would bring that field up. He would be solely responsible for his and Hanna’s income. Of course that would be the case in his time, as well but if a job is unsuccessful, you go find another one. That luxury didn’t exist here. You don’t do the work, you don’t survive. The feeling of pride turned quickly to dread as he scrambled through his thoughts trying to remember everything he was taught the summer before. A life time supply of knowledge and experience crammed into Chris’ head in one summer. It was a lot to sort through.