The 2lb Double Face Sledge Hammer

I was feeling sort of down. My rental house that, until just a few weeks ago, had been occupied by a "family" was vacant. The tenants moved back to their home country and left $16,000 worth of damage to the house. (Apparently the phrase single-family home in English doesn't translate to the same thing in other languages.)

I left early Saturday morning, just after breakfast and protests from all of my children to try my hand at some repairs. The list is long and just reviewing it makes me unsettled.

After some bone jarring gravel shoveling on the driveway to try to smooth out the ruts, I started removing all the carpet. My hands were blistered and cramped up. I could hardly open them. I was beginning to get in a really foul mood.

But then it happened.

I was getting a knife from the toolbox and when I lifted the top tray, I saw it down in the bottom. There it was, beckoning like some sort of Tool Time Excalibur. It had been hiding down there, just adding dead weight but at that moment it was clamoring to be wielded by an angry soul.

The 2 LB Double Faced Sledge Hammer.

With fervor, I obliged.

First to go was the makeshift door frame they had installed to close off the family room in order to make it another bedroom.
Next was the makeshift closet in the same room.
And finally, the downstairs shower, damaged by the upstairs shower being used without a curtain, was the last resister.

I came down full force on the tiles. Crack. They easily busted into dozens of pieces. It was almost too easy. Then I hit it. The big block in the center. It was solid brick covered in steel reinforced concrete. A worthy adversary.

With every blow, the block barrier gave small but satisfying results. Chips and flecks, chunks and steel mesh loosening and crumbling. The sound in the small shower enclosure was deafening.

My ears were ringing but I couldn't stop until the whole thing lay in a heap of rubble on the floor.

Victory!

• 16" Length



• Double face



• Polished face



• Hickory handle



• Forged steel head



• Used for general sledging operations in staking wood, concrete, metal and stone



• Common uses are drifting timbers and striking spikes, star drills, hardened nails and home security



• No toolbox complete without one

The Trilding

Trilding [tril-ding] -noun
1. a relatively permanent enclosed construction around any of various forms of vehicle for carrying goods and materials, usually consisting of a single, no longer functioning self-propelled unit, used for any of a wide variety of activities, as living, entertaining, or manufacturing while having a roof and usually windows.

2. South Georgia storage shed

3. The 8th wonder of Modern Day Redneck Construction

It's okay. Go ahead and click on the photo for an enlargement. I'll wait. Yes, you are seeing correctly. They backed the truck up, salvaged the wheels and bricked it in.

I saw this very unusual building addition on a previous trip to Statesboro. I was determined to hunt it down and get a picture this trip because I didn't think anyone would believe me. The picture speaks for itself.

After taking the picture, I wondered, "what type of establishment is this anyway?"

Well if you must know, it's Gnat's Landing. Seems to be quite popular with the locals.

Tonight: Barefoot Booyak

Friday: Do Good DJ's

Saturday: Triple Shock

Anyone know of other trildings? Post a link to a photo.

I Frequent "The Beaver House"

Anytime I get south of Macon, GA (some call it the gnat line) I start looking for South GA Sweet Tea. It's thick like syrup and served ice cold. I usually drink about 6 glasses in a sitting, the first one before the waitress leaves the table.

My company has a client in Statesboro, GA. We find ourselves down there about 2 times a year.

A couple of years ago I was down there with Mike Cowan, a graduate of GA Southern, and he introduced me to the Beaver House. Back in his day they served a meal plan for college students and they didn't keep track of how many times you had eaten during the week. Needless to say, Mike did not go hungry while in college.

These days he has quite a devotion to the place. I'm not sure if it's because the food is so good or just plain guilt from his former life, but I can't go down there with Mike and not eat at the Beaver House. He says, "I wake up at night in a cold sweat thinking about their fried chicken. I love that chicken."

Now that's all well and good until we get into a monthly financial review at the office and my other partners see charges on the company Amex for The Beaver House. Of course they are thinking what you were thinking when you read the heading of this post. (Which is probably the only reason you're reading this.)

So just to prove it's not some seedy truck stop off I-85 South, here is The Beaver House.

The sign inside says, "Seconds are a compliment. Thirds will cost you $1.00."


I recommend the sweet tea; Mike, the fried chicken.

Make sure you get your Prom reservations in on time.