The Requested Photos

The Puzzled Creator (Tom)

Why do we have the universal urge to make things? I have never been
very good at mechanical things like building with wood (I don't like
to measure), or fixing cars or doing home repairs. One time after we
were married I decided to make myself a pair of shorts. I cut out two
pieces of cloth that LOOKED like shorts – in fact they were the exact
size I wanted them to be. However, when I sewed them together and
turned them right-side out the leg holes were so small I couldn't even
fit my arm through them. Curiously, the waist part was large enough
for me and at least one more companion. I never did figure that one
out.

When I was about 11, I invented the flying skier. I did this by duct
taping roller skates to a ski. My maiden and farewell voyage left my
face spread out in chunks all down the right side of Crestview drive
in Pullman. Ask Brett about my other infamous inventions: the goop
shooter (the project was abandoned after several malfunctions
resulting in backfire of flour water goop all over the kitchen) the
wheel of fortune, and my old motorcycle I bought for $15 from Brett
Myers.

So it is with some bemusement that I am sitting here reflecting that
it is very strange that out backyard now has: a tree house (sort of
anyway – it is really more of a tree platform) a skate park (well, a
few ¼ pipe ramps anyway) and now… a waterfall – all of which were
built by ... me.

Well, not exactly. We had this sunken area outside our deck that I
never liked. It was always wet, and ugly and difficult to mow.
Sometime this summer, this idea came into my head that it would be the
perfect place for a water feature. I pictured a little cascading
trickle falling into a quaint pool set between two stones.

Well that idea would not go away. It kept torturing me all summer and
one day I saw an ad on Craigslist for some free rock. I drove out to
the country and met this farmer who said he had some nice rocks that
he needed to get out of his field and that he was willing to give them
away of I took all of them. Well, it just so happened that I have a
client who is an excavator who was going to dig a French drain for me
so I asked him if he would mind picking up the rocks for me when he
came to dig the ditch.

A few days later I returned from work to find approximately SIX TONS
of bounders in a big pile off the deck in the back yard.



"The Farmer wanted me to take one that weighed over 1,000 pounds" my
client, Hank told me, "but I figured you already had enough."

Enough? What to do with all this rock? Well, I went back to Craigslist and found a couple of plastic ponds and started figuring how to put everything together. My problem is that I cannot visualize how something will turn out. I just have to start moving things around and seeking how they look. Unfortunately, you can't do that very easily with 500 lb. boulers.

That is how I found myself one day last August, taking the day off
work to watch my client with his excavator machine being directed by
another client of mine who is an architect as they moved boulders
around, flipped them over, replaced them with others and basically
acted just like a woman directing her husband to re- arrange the
furniture.

The long and short is that I have spent all my spare time during the past two months working on the waterfall. I did have to hire an expert in pond and waterfall construction to give me some basic tips about how to lay out the rocks and prepare the flat falls, but most of what you see was my design. And so far, unlike my other great ideas, it seems to be working. Except that I have to put more water in it every day. Now when I come home from work the first thing I do is go
and visit the waterfall and make sure it is still working. THEN, I give JB a kiss and say hi to the kids. I am hoping that the water loss is due to splash and evaporation -- and not to a leak. But
knowing how my other inventions have turned out, it will only be a matter of time until we have a massive flood in our basement. In the mean time, however, I will keep the screen door open, even in winter, to hear the soothing sound of our waterfall.