#6. Build something. Out of wood. With tools. Assembling "something" from box labelled Ikea with Allen key does not count. COMPLETED
I am woman, hear me roar! Or, at least hear me out.
On Monday, I got to build something with my very own wrinkly hands. Ok, I didn't actually "build" something persay, it was more of an erection. No, wait. That doesn't sound right.
I erected wood...no, wait.
A mailbox! A mailbox! I put up a mailbox!
There. I'm sure we're both glad (and some disappointed) I clarified THAT straight away. (Hi Mum!)
My grandmother asked me to help out with this seemingly simple task (if only, if only). She bought a brand-spanking-new black mailbox. But it had a dent in it. So, in true grannie style, she took it back to the [shall remain nameless] store that sells hardware and oddly enough, tires...
I removed the old grey-ish blue mailbox. The wooden platform had to be resized because the new black mailbox was smaller than the old blue one. So I removed the wooden platform with a hammer. And took some measurements with the tape measurer thingy.
Then, I took out the SAW. Well actually, it was three saws. Not a three-in-one saw (that hasn't been invented yet) but three seperate saws. The first one had a good handle but was semi-dull. The second was bigger and sharper but my Nana thought the third one might be better still (grass is sharper from the other saw syndrome). She was not concerned that it was a meat saw back from the family farm's animal slottering days. Nana made me swear I would not tell anyone that we used a meat saw. After all, she has a non-meat-saw-using reputation to uphold.
A half an hour later, badda boom badda bing, the new little black mailbox is securely in place onto of the wooden platform and post. It looks fab.
Well, except for the white paint she used to print her name onto it. But I had nothing to do with that. I'm responsible for getting it up, not the white stuff.