meta-4

The carriage house out at my parent's place can be viewed as a symbol of my side of the family: It's a lumbering unfinished project that sits rusting, unattended for years before someone decides to invest time and resources into its progress.

Let me show you a picture: That's Andy Morgan standing atop the monolith of lumber forms into which concrete will be (theoretically) eventually poured to form massive beams that will compose the core of the carriage house.

A little history: This project was begun in the 1980's, ostensibly as brother Greg's masters thesis (or something like that; as time passes, legend obscures whatever actually happened) The point is, this thing has looked about the same for at least a decade.

But this is the greatest push forward in recent memory. I've been going out there every day that it doesn't rain (or sleet or snow) and building forms for the beams.

While I build the forms, Andy sets the rebar that will reinforce the beams inside the concrete. His twisting and bending of the steel becomes a thing of beauty:

Andy is a long-time family friend whose role alternates between and among associate, enabler, employee, confidant, and supplier of pure maple syrup (his folks left the rat race of northern Virginia for the green mountains of Vermont, and make their own syrup) He's a photographer and building trades professional who has a real knack for rebar.


Then there's the chief. Now that I'm a father, I spend a lot of energy contemplating and analyzing my relationship with my own father. Here he looks like a UN weapons inspector indicating some potentially incriminating evidence: There's a classicality to this pose, as if to say, I'm not the important figure in this picture, allow me to point it out for you.

It's funny to see us all age. I think Greg looks like George Washington, the chief seems to be shrinking, and me, I'm noticably absent from all photographs.