He who laughs, lasts!
Written by: The Bridge on Wednesday, May 17th, 2006
The other day, my Mom and me decided to go checking up on what the men were doing. We strolled down to the mill where they were working on the grader. As we got closer, we heard Paul Vetter and my Dad laughing so loud. We looked at each other, and Mom wondered what brought that on; she commented on how good it was to hear dad laugh like that. They stood there, laughing and laughing; they could only say one word! “Africa!” I whipped out my little camera, because, pictures are always good. Eventually, we figured out that they were trying to loosen a bolt. To loosen it, they wanted to heat it up so it would expand. They wheeled over the torch then looked for a sparker. There were three. The first one didn’t work, the second one didn’t work and then of course, the last one didn’t work either! The flints were missing, and because the choice for them was to either become frustrated or to laugh, they laughed! It was good to see them get rid of some of the stress with a good laugh. When they were done laughing, Paul Vetter went for some burning wood and paper from the palm nut fires, when that went out, without having lit the torch, Eman brought some more. They got it lit, and with just enough oxygen in the tank they managed to heat the bolt enough to turn it.
By the sound of things, this was just one of many similar experiences. Because the lock on the tool room door at the mill was broken when we arrived, there were hardly any tools left in it. When Paul Vetter found his tire hammer from last year on the opposite end of the hof in the maintenance building, he was overjoyed! He held on to it as if he would never let it go again! The one and only other hammer on the community, we have here in the house. We dare not lend it to anyone, for fear they might lose it. We had a close call when Lance dropped it in the cistern while he was fixing something on the roof, but they managed to fish it out of the algae with a hoe. I watched one of the guys working on a motorcycle the other day. He was using a medical syringe to grease things. I found myself thinking, “Our sewing room is better equipped”. Around here, when people want to hammer something, they often use a piece of scrap metal, something equally hard and with the right shape.