Project Purgatory -or- When Worlds Collide

This is how our projects usually go:

Dy: You know, we need a _____.
Zorak: Yeah? We can make one. (It's now out of his mind. We can make one. Doesn't mean we will, just that we could. Problem addressed.)
Dy: Yeah. That would be nice. (It's now embedded in my mind, and oh, how the ideas flow!)

I have to add an aside here that Zorak's Spider Sense has improved dramatically. I used to be able to slip under his radar and move on with my structurally diabolic plans. Occasionally, I could get home with materials in hand and begin digging for power tools before he became aware that something was afoot. Alas, this is no longer possible. A few days later, however, I approach him on the subject...

Dy: OK. Can we built it this weekend?
Zorak: (Thoroughly lost.) Build what?
Dy: That thing you said we could make.
Zorak: (Unsettling feelings begin to form in his gut...) Well, we'll have to figure out how we want to do it: make a design, recon at Lowe's, figure out the details.
Dy: (Desperately hoping to avoid anything that involves a recon mission.) Nah, it'll be easy. See? (I produce stunningly drawn sketches! They're even slanted to show perspective. OK, I just wrote sideways on the paper, but still...
Zorak: (groans, but quietly.)
Dy: We just need a sheet of plywood and some *insert miscellaneous accessories here- tile, dowels, shadecloth, whatever*. Then we put it up like this (sketch 1) and this (sketch 2, which looks astoundingly like sketch 1, turned sideways) and there ya go! All done.

This is where the transfer of enthusiasm begins.

Zorak: Okay... so how does this attach here at the corner?
Dy: With thingies. *pause* I don't know. Clamps? (no response) C-clamps? (blank stare from Zorak) Spring clamps?? (More low groaning.) Staples! (?)
Zorak: Mm-hmm. Ok, we'll see what they have at Lowe's. (This time it's my turn to groan.) What about the supports across this middle section?
Dy: (dead silence)
Zorak: Yeah. So are we going to route the edges here? And what angle do you want for these over here? And what's the purpose for this part here?
Dy: (fidgeting slightly) I, uh. Did you see the sketches I made? *pause* Is there coffee?
Zorak: (pretending his prey isn't struggling to escape) Instead of using these here we can probably rig something on the edges and φέρτε τις άκρες μαζί με την κόλλα και το στερεώστε έπειτα με τη λήξη των καρφιών. Θα χρειαστούμε τα μικρά καρφιά. Θα μπορούσαμε να προσθέσουμε τα comparments στις πλευρές....

I wander off. Get coffee. Avoid making eye contact. The transfer is complete and the project is now wholly his for this phase. It is alien to me now.

I still get called in for input which I'm not qualified to offer. I make more coffee.

This portion of the proccess wearies me. It involves nuances I don't bother to understand (you mean you shouldn't use twist-ties on a permanent structure?), demands that we work with characteristics of wood and cuts of grain (I dunno- can't we just paint it?) It involves the mathematical relation of stress and counterstress (did you notice my dead silence when he asked about the supports? I left those out on purpose. I just didn't want to mess with them.)

I see a vision and am awed by it's potential (and ease).

He sees the parts and revels in the whole (but particularly in combining just the right parts for the whole).

Together, we make some darned fine projects, but there is this space in the transfer of leadership where it's just terribly uncomfortable.

Eventually, we get the details nailed down. We make the dreaded recon trip to Lowe's. We emerge with materials. They are never "just the right thing," according to Zorak (they're always "more than we needed" according to me), and there are always revisions and adjustments upon returning home, but we're almost done.

Then comes the easy part: letting the boys help build the project. We have a wonderful, unspoken understanding that *this* is the good stuff. This is what it's all about, right here, the boys and us, working together, doing this Thing together. They learn the safety rules for using power tools, that the baby should not eat the nails, and why sanding wood is an important step. That's the part we love. The boys love it. It's a family project, and they understand that. We received many hours of pleasure under our lovely awning. The coffee table is a central focal point for our living room, and we all feel warm and fuzzy about it. The shelf we are currently building will one day obtain that status. When it's done.

If it weren't for Charles, I'd have created a patio shade that engulfed people in any wind over 2 miles per hour, a coffee table that ate children at random, and a toy bin which would have been this generation's version of the 800 pound TV on a wobbly aluminum TV tray.

But if it weren't for me, he'd still be searching for just the right materials...

Yep, we're pretty good together.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy