Aly recently completed a whirlwind packing project to empty her apartment before moving back to the homestead (see Solstice Maximus). She needed to box up and otherwise secure her household goods to hand off to her aunt and uncle, who will deliver them to Alaska Marine Lines in Seattle for shipment to Haines.
In an email sent in the middle of the process, Aly listed a few items that could not be boxed. One of them caught my attention: “I also have the sledgehammer.”
Sledgehammer? What does a suburban apartment dweller who works at a tea shop need with a sledgehammer?
The answer proves to me, yet again, that we raised our daughter well!
Aly used to belong to an exercise group called “Geeks and Gamers.” This ingenious concept, which goes by various names as it develops around the country, incorporates play into adult exercise regimens.
Each routine follows some sort of theme drawn from popular culture: science fiction/fantasy, videogaming, etc. So, for instance, participants may sprint through an obstacle course, chased by dinosaurs or terminators. It cleverly engages the participants’ imagination and sense of play as they complete a fairly serious workout.
When we went south to see Aly graduate from college (see Aly’s Graduation Day) we attended a few of the Geek and Gamer sessions. It was fun!
At that time they had the gym divided into various exercise stations, and participants went around the circuit in groups. One of the stations had a pair of giant truck tires and sledgehammers. The regulars were very solicitous, showing Michelle and me how to perform the exercise. Each person stood on the tire and whacked it with a sledgehammer, trying to hit the same spot between his or her feet for a set number of blows.
In other words, just another day on the homestead . . . . You should have seen the amazement when we both jumped up there and whacked the tire repeatedly, always in the same spot.
The program broke up when the fellow who set it up moved out of town. Before he left, he realized he had five or six sledgehammers. He didn’t figure he needed more than one, so he asked the participants if anyone wanted one. Aly spoke up, and got a free sledgehammer! She didn’t have an immediate need for it, but it didn’t cost anything, so why not?
It will cost me about $.60/lb to ship it home for her, but that’s a bargain.
Our old sledgehammer may be reaching the end of its useful life. I’ve been thinking lately about replacing it. Looks like the girl—and her sledgehammer—will arrive just in the nick of time.