"Felt wrong not to swing." -Caesar Joaquin Phoenix, Signs

What does a $190.00 and 12 hours get you at Home Despot? Yup. It's above.

The Mrs. said it was time to build a swing set for The Boy and The New Boy. I could argue based on being cheap, how that would cost money, or, I could go spend a few hundred dollars and purchase the lumber and unlimber my tools for the summer. What do you think I did?

Off to Home Despot.

Actually, first I had to figure out exactly what I was going to build. I went out on the Internet, and found that there were many places that would sell me plans for a swing set. Pay for ideas? No. I’d mess it up a dozen times before then. But I did go on the Internet and look at pictures. From there, I sketched up a basic plan, counted up the lumber, and went off with The Boy to Home Despot.

We picked up all the lumber (22-2x4x8, 4-4x4x8, 2-2x6x8, 2-2x4x10) along with various other sundry parts (screws, metal brackets, 2-10’ sections of 1” conduit, etc.) and one other thing. A drill press.

I’ve always wanted a drill press. Drill presses have the advantage of being drilly. And of being pressy. I love both of those. Drilling and pressing. Mmmm. Paging Dr. Freud? Nevermind.

I brought the booty home and we began putting the parts together. At one point we had the 4x4 put together on a brace of 2x4, lying on its side. It looked like Thor’s (god of thunder) box kite. At that point, though, I burned up not one, but two screwdriver bits. These bits, it says on the box, were developed for the aerospace industry so they could, well, I don’t know, they didn’t say what they did with them. From the rate they burned up, looks like the shuttles are made of these things.

I hate to drive a bazillion miles back into Fairbanks for a drill bit, but I also divined that there were other parts missing, too.

Back we went. The Boy had a Home Despot apron (you know, the orange ones) and demanded he wear it to the store. I thought I’d take a picture and hit ‘em up for violations of child labor laws, but instead I just bought my drill bits.

It was on that trip, however, that I discovered that I’d been hit by the plague. Or some disease that makes one immediately crave sleep. I was feeling so ill that even the sweet, sweet taste of beer was unappealing.

I got home, did a bit more work, and finally curled up on the couch. On Memorial Day, after sleeping though sixteen straight hours of the Bird Flu, or Ebola, or whatever I had, The Mrs., The Boy and I again started building. The Mrs. (until she had to go to work) and The Boy (the whole time) were incredibly helpful. We weren’t complete at the end of the day, but we were close.


The view from the top. The Mrs. and I marvelled at how you could see, well, the same trees. But we were 4' higher looking at them.

The one creepy thing was when I was attempting to figure out how to attach the slide to the main structure, The Boy suggested we need two U-bolts.

He’s right. U-bolts are just what we need. And, we need two of them.

How the heck does a five-year-old know about U-bolts?