Brake Dancing

(And I am aware of the correct spelling of "break dancing"...) Bob and Joe and I worked on Sunday, starting early and measuring and whacking and chopping with the best of them. I have learned all manner of useful and informative carpentry terms; things like headers and sole plate and jack studs. And my favorite? If something is a tiny bit over or under (when taking a measurement) it's referred to as (and I am not making this up!) a "cunt hair". Apparently even Bob had heard this colorful term many years ago when he was briefly employed as a builder. And also, interestingly, what with Brazilian waxes and the general depilatory habits of the young this is becoming an archaic phrase. Will wonders never cease!
So onto my general discussion of all things studio building related. We realized by mid-Sunday afternoon that we were going to run out of 10 foot long 2 x 4's. It was agreed that I, as the least able to saw and nail, would be dispatched to the nearest Home Depot to secure more stock. For some reason, I wasn't in the mood, but finally I got in the truck. It is fortunate that I didn't get right on the highway, but noticed that I needed gas. I filled up and started to pull out of the station and promptly had one of those almost out-of-body experiences as I depressed the clutch and brake pedals and the truck just kept moving forward. I then realized why: I had no brakes! The truck rolled out onto Main Street with (unusually!) no one coming from either direction, as I was making a left hand turn across traffic. Somehow, with much coasting and careful down shifting, I managed to make it home, through several traffic lights and one woolly intersection where a major route hits the highway. Joe went to get wood instead.
So with one thing and another, we are still waiting to raise that third wall. It should happen tomorrow and then we can go onto the rafters and roof. And I'm still alive!