J. D. Salinger would be pleased at our progress on Friday. The lift for beams and trusses arrived and we loaded two big permalam beams into place. The truss truck had to travel backward up the road to the house as there wasn't enough room for turnaround; well-equipped with special mechanism for tipping and rolling the big triangles, the truck was pretty nifty. The young man who drove it, cap on backward, with a ready smile, was pleased with himself for getting to the rancho at all.
Ken operated the lift while Jeff and his helper manipulated the beams into place. They rotate slowly in their fabric sling as they are moved and the framers had to grab at them with hammer claws to pull them into position, then guide them into place.
Jeff, a determined smoker, kept a cigarette dangling on his lower lip throughout the process. No amount of nagging, cajoling, wheedling or reason has convinced him to quit, or so he tells me. Like all smokers, he cites his grandmother and other lived smoking relatives as examples of those who are apparently cancer resistant. Lots of luck!!
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