My breif experience with manual labor.

As you may have guessed, I am not a huge fan of manual labor. Not that I abhor it, but I try to avoid it if I can. Tomorrow I am embarking on a Girl Scout adventure to Newport Beach. Which means my dad and I had to A) get our kayaks out of the barn and B) attach them to the top of his truck. It also meant I had to get out of my PJs on my day off and put on "work clothes" which I was not happy about.

Now this didn't seem to be a particularly hard task, until I opened the doors to the 3rd compartment of the barn, which houses our kayaks, but also crates of other things and random metal rods and sticks and broken glass on the floor. So here I was all alone (my dad was fixing the wheels on the trailer) against this huge mess, thinking of how we were going to get the kayaks down (they are attached to the ceiling by a homemade pulley system).

So I spent the next hour or so unloading all the stuff out of the barn, mostly with my palms because the gloves I was wearing only had 2 covered fingers on each hand. There were also spiders on pretty much everything. Including me. 

After that was done, We lowered the first kayak off the celing, and brought it over to my dad's truck with little trouble. The second kayak, however was not so willing, and knocked over all the stuff I had deemed "safe" to leave in there. So here my dad was, supporting most of the big 'ol kayak, covered in stuff that had recently fallen all over him. And he was a bit mad, but thankfully my dad is not like me and he is VERY used to physical labor, so he was okay just sitting there trying not to get crushed while I figured out the pulley.



After we got everything situated, we put the kayaks on the truck, and dad got out this little peice of rope and put some crazy knot he learned in the army in it and promised me it would work.

I guess we'll find out tomorrow.