Showing posts with label Construction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Construction. Show all posts

Monday, 30 January 2012

My dad on conflict resolution...and moving mountains


Hello readers...so after last week's post on my dad's buried treasure, my mom commented to me on how ridiculous that story was, and that my father was insane for having dug that trench. Well you know what? She's right. That was absolutley insane. But on the crazy barometer of things my dad has said and done over the years, digging a six foot deep, twenty foot long trench around the house does not even come close to the inspiration for this week's post.   

First let me give you a little background about where I grew up (trust me, it will all make sense in the end). So as I was saying, I grew up in the Montreal neighborhood of NDG. NDG is a great place to live, and some of my fondest memories as a kid were of playing in the snow covered backyard. Conversely, some of the worst memories are of the backyard being flooded in the spring-time months by the melting snow, and turning it into a Louisiana style swamp-land. Well, as I mentioned in my previous post, my dad is quite the do-it yourselfer, and over the years has developed a truly ingenious syphon system to drain our backyard of melting snow. As it happens, our backyard was actually the lowest in the neighborhood, so naturally our neighbors were more then thrilled when my dad's syphon would inevitably drain their backyards, leaving ours flooded for the longest period of time. Well my dad is a good sport, and really didn't mind. But as those people who know him best will tell you, my father does not mind doing favors for people, but absolutely hates being taken advantage of. Well this brings me to the topic of this week's post, how my dad deals with conflict resolution, and how he decided to move a mountain.  

Remember our neighbor Roger? He's the guy my dad convinced to help him dig for buried treasure...if you haven't read it already, please read my previous post on my dad's buried treasure...trust me, it is a great story! As I saying, when Roger first moved in, the real-estate agent informed him that the only draw-back to the neighborhood was the fact that the gardens always got flooded in the spring time. Well, seeing as how it was a great house, and NDG is a wonderful place to live, this was seen as a minor inconvenience, and something that could easily be overcome. Well upon moving in, Roger thought he was quite clever, and decided to raise his backyard by a few inches, thus making his higher then ours. My father was naturally displeased by this act, and promptly headed over to introduce himself to his new neighbor, and secondly ask what the hell he thought he was doing, raising his backyard. 

Dad: Hi. 
Roger: Hello. 
Dad: Are you out of your mind? 
Roger: I'm sorry...what do you mean? (naturally a little taken back by my father's forwardness) 
Dad: You raised your backyard over mine! 
Roger: Well yeah, I don't want it to get flooded in the spring. 
Dad: What about my backyard? That means mine will stay flooded the longest! 
Roger: Well that's too bad. I guess you should have thought of raising your backyard too (he thought this was quite funny, given the very difficult nature of the task). 

Those of you who know my dad will tell you one thing...don't taunt the man! He will go to any lengths to prove a point, including moving mountains (you'll see, it all makes sense in a little bit). 

Dad: Is that so? 
Roger: Yes it is. 
Dad: Okay then, we'll see what's what. 

And they promptly parted ways. As luck would have it (and as my mom will tell you, my father is probably the luckiest person on earth) the heavens conspired to help my dad prove his point, and make my brother and mine's life a living nightmare. My father happened to be walking Simba and Paula (the family dogs) by a construction site, and saw the mechanical shovels pulling out tons of black earth. Well my dad, always being on the look-out for a good deal, approached the foreman and asked him how much he wanted for the earth. The foreman was a little taken back by this question, as I'm sure it was the first time someone had approached him to buy earth he was hauling out of a job site. He thought about it for a while, and answered fifty dollars. He then asked my father how much earth he wanted. My father asked him how much a dump truck could hold. The foreman replied, about forty tons or so. Well that was perfect, my father replied, and proceeded to give him the money and delivery address. 

Imagine my mother's surprise as this enormous dump truck pulls up to the house, and my father jumps out of the cab with a yellow construction helmet, happy as can be. Now imagine that surprise turning to shear horror as the dump truck proceeds to back into the driveway and dump forty tons of earth. My mother, being cool-headed as ever, told my dad that she did not want to know what sort of hair-brained scheme he was up to, but that she wanted no part of it. 

So as you've probably figured out by now, my dad had every intention of taking Roger up on his taunt and raising our backyard with forty tons of black earth. When Roger came home that afternoon and saw my father with a wheel-barrow, a shovel and a forty ton mountain of earth on our half of the driveway, he naturally 'inquired' as to what my dad was up to.  

Dad: Just a little light gardening project (with a sly smile on the corner of his face) 
Roger: Okay...(I can only imagine what was going through his mind at the time) 
Dad: I really think it's going to 'raise' the value of the houses around here.  

You see Roger still had no idea what was going on here. But believe me, he sure received an education. What followed next is nothing short of a herculean feat of strength and will. Armed only with three shovels, two wheel barrows, and a make-shift wooden ramp, my dad, my brother and I hauled forty tons of black earth into our backyard over the course of four weekends. He watched in horror as shovel by shovel, barrow by-barrow we raised that backyard over twelve inches, and effectively became the highest backyard on the block. Guess who's backyard doesn't flood in the spring anymore? And guess who's backyard now consistently gets flooded? Oh yeah, it was worth it! 

To this day, it was the most back-breaking labor I have ever done. That experience has taught me, that armed with a little ingenuity, and a whole lot of will power you can do just about anything. So before you go out and taunt my dad with something ridiculous, remember, he does not get mad, he gets even, and nothing is beyond him, not even moving mountains! 

Stay tuned for more. 

Daniel. 

Monday, 23 January 2012

My dad's buried treasure

So, since I've started writing about my dad, a number of people have been messaging me and questioning the genuineness of my posts...I assure you, these are the real deal, and I could not be making them up, even if I tried. Well those who know me, will tell you that I, like my father, am a bit of joker who enjoys a good story. But see, I thought of that, and decided to provide a little visual proof for this post, entitled  "My dad's buried treasure".

This story goes back a few years: after a particularly harsh Canadian winter, my father discovered some cracks in the foundation of the house and decided to call in a professional to assess the damage (keep in mind that this is a big move for him, as he is quite the do-it yourself-er). The contractor informed him that the work could be done, but that a giant access trench would have to be dug around the outside of the house to access the bedrock and seal the foundation cracks form the outside. Upon being handed a quote for over ten thousand dollars, the majority of which was for digging the trench, my dad simply replied to the contractor, "be here in a week with your sealing equipment. The trench will be ready and dug for you". The contractor naturally looked at my dad with curiosity and asked him to repeat that. My father calmly replied that he would dig the trench himself. Naturally, the contractor replied in mocking tone, "how?". My dad replied "with a shovel, naturally. Now be here in a week, before I change my mind and do all the work myself!" So the contractor left (probably thinking that same thing I was thinking at the time and you probably are too right now...this guy is out of his mind...safe assumption given the circumstances) and my dad got to work.

Well believe it or not, but armed simply with a wheel-barrow, shovel and a pick, my dad dug that trench (a true testament to his character) around the house in just under a week. remember how I mentioned I had proof for you? Well the picture below was taken on the fourth day of digging. 

That trench is over 6ft deep, and over 20 ft long!

So this brings me to the title of this post, "My dad's buried treasure". On the fifth day of digging, our neighbor curiously walks over to the dig site and asks my dad what he is doing. My dad believing the nature of his work was fairly self-explanatory, decided to have a little fun with Roger (our neighbor).

Roger: Sooooooo...what are you doing?
Dad: well I don't really want to talk about it...
Roger: Why? (growing evermore curious)
Dad: Well...can you keep a secret?
Roger: Absolutely! (now he's really got him on the line)
Dad: Okay so here goes...but don't even tell your wife. Promise? Okay. So I was digging around in the old furnace room, and found an old rusty box full of paper hidden in a heating vent.
Roger: What did they say?
Dad: Well, the former owner of the house was an elderly eastern-European Jewish woman  who was quite wealthy. The documents, which look like some sort map of this house, and a will. Well when she died, her estate was empty, and this map has strange markings on it, so I'm thinking she may have buried her money somewhere on the land. You know, we Europeans like to bury things...
Roger: Are you joking?
Dad: Does it look like I am joking? I just dug a six foot deep trench for the fun of it...come on...so listen, if you help me, I'll give you half when we find it (as he desperately tries not to break out laughing).
Roger: Really?
Dad: Oh yeah! Just go get a shovel and help me!
Roger: Okay, I'll be right back!

Sure enough, Roger rushed home to get a shovel to help my dad find his buried treasure.

A day later, as my dad was still digging his trench, Roger's wife came over to speak to my dad. She was clearly not amused that my father had been teasing her husband, and that the latter was had been looking for his shovel to help dig for the buried treasure. Apparently it took her arguing with him all night to convince him it was a fib.

In the end, everybody had a good laugh about it, and according to my dad, seeing my neighbor believe such a ridiculous story was more than enough buried treasure for him, and completely worthwhile.

My dad digging for his treasure!

The lesson here: if it sounds too ridiculous to be true, then it problably is...then again, you never know with my dad...

Stay tuned for more.

Daniel