The instructions said that it would take two people two hours. We therefore reckoned it would be three and painful for us. We have just finished, in the dark; it took us seven. Seven long and hideously unpleasant hours. I am fairly dire at DIY and Stu is definitely much worse. Unfortunately, a trampoline is something that cannot be done single handed and so tackle it together we had to.
It started badly. I had separated all the washers, nuts, bolts, screws etc. etc. into piles so that we could be clear about what was what. Stuart took a screw number 12 and started putting it where a screw number 8a should have gone instead. Cue first enormous flid from his wife, two minutes into the task. At this point he shuffled off inside and started phoning every handyman in St Albans. Unsurprisingly, every handyman in St Albans did not want to come and build our trampoline at 3.15pm on a Friday afternoon, they wanted to be in the pub. Fair dos. Me too.
By the time the aforementioned sheepish husband reappeared, I had pretty much built the frame single-handed and was irritatingly smug. We got it on its feet and it was Stu's turn to get involved and stretch out the springs. To those of you lucky buggers that have never put together a trampoline, you have to do this in a balanced way, doing opposite springs and then a cross section to ensure the stretch stays equal whilst you're putting it together. Stu was stretching, I was counting springs. How the mighty fall. I miscalculated one spring when we were halfway through which meant then moving half of the springs again. They are so taut that once they are in they don't want to come out again. Cue lots of swearing and shouting from Stu. I was trying to offer helpful advice, (maybe feeling the tiniest bit guilty that this bit could have been my fault), stuff like, "are you sure you've got the angle right?", and "I think you maybe just need to pull a bit harder?"
About this time, Stu announced that he was going to go down the pub and we could finish it later. That went down like a cup of cold sick. He didn't go, (although he is there with my blessing now), but he did mention it approximately every 10 minutes between 5.30 and 10.15. Not ideal.
The boys had been told they would be able to use this new, fun, shiny trampoline after tea tonight. Luckily, their mother was too hot, busy and grumpy to even make them tea, so Zak made them toast and they put themselves to bed, wondering if Mummy and Daddy would still be together by the time Sebi turned eight.
The second mistake I made was when I had tied half tied the safety net around which took about 25 minutes. I have never been into weaving/sewing/knitting and this was like a nasty combination of all three. Stu tried to really go to the pub again at this point but was threatened with death by trampoline tool if he dared to try and step out of the garden. He therefore joined in with the heinous knitsewtrampoweaving until I realised that we were tying the net onto the outside of the springs whereas it should have been tied on the inside instead. We then had to UNDO our last 25 minutes work and start again. So horribly painful. Plus it was getting dark. I had a pang of historical empathy for the 19th century matchstick girls as I squinted at my throbbing fingers that I couldn't see and which had stopped working properly anyway.
We did it. We have started talking in a fairly civilised manner again. I am hoping that we may someday see the funny side of all this. I look forward to my ohsohandyman Dad's take on it tomorrow. Stu had to go and borrow a couple of washers from him at some point so he was aware of the extreme pain of our situation. We didn't ask for his help, and so he didn't impose himself. I reckon at the age of 77 he could have possibly done it in 90 minutes standing on his head however.
Handymen of St Albans - we are an easy target for your marketing right now, Ring on our doorbell and we will probably stick you on a fantastic retainer for twenty years.
We live to fight another day. Although, as tomorrow is a special one, we may try not to fight too much.
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