Not too long ago, my dog Willy and I decided to take a long walk into the deep Southern Forest of the picturesque Bromarf tombolo. It didn't take long before Willy got hungry, and I got lost. I'm used to being lost. In my special force days, that is what we did to confuse the enemy. If you don't know where you are yourself, how on earth could the enemy be able to figure it out!?
So, I was not too worried, and we just continued strolling on. Even though my phone battery was dead, I felt confident we would be okay. We had plenty of sunlight left, some food, and enough water to last us for a day. There was plenty of time to find our way back to the main road where my car was waiting for us.
As I was trying to figure out the right direction, Willy suddenly started his typical panic like howl-barking. He usually does it when something unexpected happens. I looked in his direction and lo and behold there, right in front of us, stood two nasty looking trolls!
I instinctively took the Crane-Kick-Position familiar from the Karate Kid movie. But we soon realized that the two trolls were friendly. They introduced themselves as Mille and Nille, and after a few awkward COVID-19 greetings, they offered to show us the way to the main road. They even gave Willy a vegan elk bone to chew on.
We gladly accepted their help and let them lead the way. But it didn't take long before I became suspicious and started to expect some troll-like mischief, but we had no choice but to follow them as they took us deeper into the forest. The trees grew larger, and the forest became denser and darker. I started warming up my shoulders, getting ready for battle, just in case.
To my relief, the woods eventually opened up, and it became lighter again. Everyone knows that one should never fight trolls in the dark. We arrived at a small rocky hill, and right next to its little peak, there was an old cabin. Mille pointed at it and said:
- Mike, we have a business proposal for you. Why don't you take a break from your blogging and repair our home instead?
I took a deep breath and looked at the small shelter looking hut. It was quite old but perhaps still repairable. The roof would still hold water for a year or two, but it had to be renewed. Some of the logs were rotten and would have to be replaced, the windows and doors were leaking, and a paint job was long overdue. According to my estimations, it would take a professional three weeks to repair:
- I can do better than that. I will raise the stakes and do both.
Mille and Nille looked at each other in bewilderment and started whispering in their strange-sounding tongue. Then followed the toughest negotiations that I have ever taken part in. Back and forth, we went with endless versions of what the other side would get in this bet-like business transaction. Finally, we shook hands, washed them diligently, injected some hydroxychloroquine into our veins, and made a deal.
If I failed to repair the cabin, the trolls would get to cut off my legs and make calf soup, which would feed them through the winter. In addition to that, I would have to promise to become a belly flier with Swedish citizenship. I horrendous destiny!
But if I would succeed, they would lead me out of the dark forest and into a country of snowy mountains with peaks that touch the sky. A country with deep lakes surrounded by crystal clear streams and magical nature. There my dreams would come true, and I would live happily ever after with Willy and my inflated calves.
So, my dear friends, this is where I will be for the next eight weeks. Somewhere deep in the woods repairing an old cabin. Feel free to give good advice and suggestions, and if possible, you are more than welcome to come and hold the nail while I swing the sledgehammer. The trolls will not hurt you. I promise.
Chapter two: the door
It did not take me long before I realized that I have to start with the door. Trolls have this fascinating thing with doors, which probably includes some witchcraft; a door should test anyone entering the house. To open it, one needed to lift, twist, and kick it. Speed was also of the essence because the hornets living in the door did not much appreciate the kicking.
The easy solution would have been to buy a new door with a frame. With little work and to a reasonable price, I would have gotten a correctly functioning door for the next 20 years. But we all know that men with special force training rarely take the easy way out. So, I decided to renovate the old one to make sure its magical features were sustained.
I Strengthened the structure, got rid of the rotten parts and the hornet nests. I pus some new isolation and a new wooden panel, and finally, with some paint, the door was almost as new. It also gave me a chance to hint at what I have in mind for the cabin.
I know some of you might have expected more after 20 days of work. I must admit, so did I. On the instructional youtube videos, it all goes so quickly. I was surprised at how slow I was in the beginning. I actually did some research, put some data points into a spreadsheet, and came to the following conclusion.
Planning is key to any project, so for approximately 20% of the time, I sit on a rock talking to myself, thinking, planning, and visualizing, sporadically sketching on a piece of paper. Eventually, I realize that no one else is going to fulfill those plans, but me so ready or not I spring to action. Before I started, my guess was that I would be in full action most of the time. But my research showed that these spurs of effective action consist of only 5% of my working time.
I'm not much of a sketcher, and I rarely plan two steps ahead of time. For this reason, the next day, I will spend about 25% of my time correcting and covering the mistakes I've made the previous day.
However, what really makes me slow are the darn trollish mischiefs. Mille and Nille are northern trolls; they go into hiding during the summer months. Therefore they will not need the cabin until fall arrives, so they don't mind if it takes a few months longer than expected. Even though I can't see them, I know they are around. First, I thought it was me being disorganized, but I eventually realized that Mille and Nille are playing their favorite game: hiding tools. A staggering 50% of my working time is spent on trying to find my tools. Where is my hammer? I'm sure I put my drill here somewhere? Where is my measuring stick?
Comments