My whole office took a day to work on a local HFH project. The "regulars" are a bunch of retired folks who dedicate a couple of days each week to build new homes for families in need. This is their life. This is just one day of my life, so I tried to keep it all in check, while standing around for hours doing nothing.
The boss man, ex-preacher, charismatic loud guy, looked all the females directly in the eyes when he asked for volunteers to sweep the floors in preparation of the tile laying. He had no idea what a crappy job I do of sweeping. I leave trails and tracks everywhere, but I obliged and grabbed a broom and pushed dust all around in a cloud.
When he later asked who had experience laying tile, only me and another female raised our hands. You could see the old tile guy's lips crinkle as he scanned across all the men hoping for some testosterone-driven salvation. His salvation never came.
After sweeping, the seasoned males spread the glue across the cement foundation, then we all pretty much stood around and watched glue dry. [Yes, we were laying crappy commercial linolium tiles--not ceramic!] We females were relegated to keeping dust from blowing in. I guess our wide birthing-hips made us good candidates for this task--blocking the dust blowing in the windows and doors.
After the glue dried, the seasoned males laid the first lines of tile in two directions for us to follow. The lead tile guy, lovingly known as the "old coot" chose to focus his attentions on my work. The third time he snapped at me, I walked away. He snatched tile after tile out of my hand and did it himself, so I let him. When he later started critiquing the other female's work, she quickly pointed out that the work he thought was so flawed-----was his own.
I went outside to play in the dirt. I spent the rest of the day helping to sod the yards of two homes. We were wiped out at quitting time. My boss treated us all to drinks and appetizers at a local eatery, then I headed home, showered, and went to bed at 6:00 PM. I did not get up until the next morning.
I know we did good work. I know the old coot does good work. It was just a little disheartening to be scolded so much while trying to do good. Oh Well. I always wanted to do Habitat, so now I can check that off my list.
I've worked the soup kitchen downtown, I've spent a day with Habitat, and I've donated gallons of blood. Of the three, I think I will stick with the bloodsuckers. I don't have to tell people they can't have more food, nobody yells at me, I still get to save a life, and I get a cookie in the end. I'm sure there are other worthwhile causes still out there for me to try, but for now, hemoglobin seems to best fit my lifestyle.
