The Art of Lashing…Now We Be Ready To Sail

I know I promised  you all the adventure of driving somewhere unfamiliar and shopping in a store that had labels in another language. It still sounds like a good exercise to fight Brain Drain and help me sleep.  (By the way, I’m not having those work-all-night dreams anymore,  but I still wake long before sunrise.)

I began my groggy day by building a stupendous Powerpoint presentation using only my left hand on the mouse (like I promised).  Well….maybe it’s not so fantastic-looking because  I’m convinced there is no connection between my brain and the fingers on my left hand. It was taking  ten to twenty minutes to custom build each slide when it should have only taken 3-5 minutes. I believe those new synapses must have been trying to drill through cement in in my gray matter.

So you can understand that when Scout stuck his head in the door and shouted, “We need your help hauling  poles!”  I ran away from the computer like a woman escaping a diet farm.

That’s how I ended up learning how to build a 30 foot flag pole this afternoon. I learned clove hitches and how lash a tripod.  I’m a bit insulted that Scout declared my frapping too loose.  (Think of rows of rope woven and coiled around the tops of 3 logs. I was supposed to haul on each wrap with my full body weight–but I was a slacker).  Scout made me take it apart and do it again along with the  Tenderfoots.

I grumbled. The rope had already abraded my fingertips until they were smooth and grooveless.  I threw my body into the next attempt. Feet against the poles, I heaved until the wood screamed. They tested my couplings by having a Chuck-Norris-type-guy  thump, kick and hang off my tripod.  I passed.

I’m not sure if learning to frap and lash stimulated my brain as much as the wicked left-handed mouse, but I figure that if I’m ever a cast away with Tom Hanks on an island, I’ll be able to do my share.  And if the mast on your sailing vessel breaks…give me a call;  I can lash it, if you can hold it together.

The guys proclaimed my skills were sufficient enough to work on their trebuchet next, but I can’t…I’ve got a free Salsa class tomorrow.

About Barb

I escaped from a hardscrabble farm in Oklahoma. I'm not sure why people think I have an accent. I miss the sunshine, but not the fried foods.
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2 Responses to The Art of Lashing…Now We Be Ready To Sail

  1. Lisa Nowak says:

    It cracks me up that your kid made you do the frapping again. I’ll be he took great pleasure in that after a lifetime of having to do tasks over at your insistence. 😉


  2. Roxie says:

    Salsa! Woohoo! Shake your booty! If you have high heels with ankle straps or MaryJane straps, wear them, and a flirty short skirt. Go Barb!

    And I think that learning frapping and lashing is a great new experience!


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