That’s right, folks. POWER TOOLS!
First off, apologies: I tried to post this last week, but time got away from me. Now, two weekends ago, my husband was working on the countertops now situated in the café of our soon-to-be-open business. Because it was raining outside, he had to work in the house. (That was the first problem because those who know me know I HATE messes!) That was when my attention was piqued by his electric saw, and, being a little curious—and more than willing to annoy him—I asked if it was a “Power Saw.”
He immediately scoffed. “It’s a circular saw, not a power saw.”
I, in all sincerity, asked what the difference was, to which he stated something like this: “There’s no such thing as a power saw. No one calls it that. The other option is a handsaw, and I’m not Amish.”
I argued, “But they’re called power tools.” To which he rebutted, “As a group, all tools that use an alternate source of power are called power tools. Then there’s cordless. But this one has a cord.”
“I see that,” I said, egging him on. “But, it’s a power saw because it requires electricity from some source, just like other power tools.”
“No, it’s a circular saw. Call it a circular saw.”
This went on for a while, and I accomplished my task of aggravating him (which, in all fairness, is something he does to me regularly).
I finally asked if I could try. He seemed amazed that I was interested and probably intrigued to see me attempt to use it, and proceeded to give me the basic rundown of operations—how to hold it, how to release the safety guard, how to start it and guide it—to which I listened with eagerness.
Now, let me clarify something. This project required long cuts from the top to the bottom of four-foot-wide detached countertops. This meant I had to hold it upside down. That was my first hesitation. I held it above the top of the counter and squeezed the trigger, setting into motion a loud and momentous jolt that I was unprepared for. I panicked a little and backed out without touching the wood.
“Let me watch you first,” I said.
He didn’t even question me. He reclaimed his power saw—because that is still how I identify it—and commenced cutting the piece of wood as he described to me how he did it. “Follow the laser,” he said, “and it’ll show you where you’ll be cutting.”
I like lasers. My Smith &Wesson M&P has one. So why—if I can work with firearms—am I afraid of a saw? Well, I was overly cautious the first few times I handled a handgun, too. Yet, the saw was facing down, completely under my full control because it wasn’t resting on anything, and it had the capability of ruining a very important, expensive piece of furniture. As well as my leg. Or foot. Or finger. Providing it got away from me.
Needless to say, all went well. The laser proved to be very helpful, and I was able to cut the countertop without screwing anything up. Plus, I gained a new skill. It was a win-win for us both … and something my husband can now offload to me in a moment of desperation! 😊
p.s. Next time, I’ll make sure to get a photo!
The Pondering Pot 