Initial efforts at sanding were met with focused attention, though, let's be honest, for tiny hands between three and eight, a little enthusiasm goes a long way with tedious tasks. Then came the glue – a wonderfully messy, bonding agent that found its way onto the proper places and, quite liberally, onto the table, the floor, sticky little fingers, and even a few strands of hair, sparking laughter. After that exhilarating phase, however, a wise decision was made to move the project outdoors. It was then that the children were entrusted with a cordless drill, guiding their small hands as they drove the screws into the pre-drilled holes, the satisfying whirring sound and sense of accomplishment lighting up their faces. Grandpa was on hand for the trickier bits, offering a reassuring hand-over-hand assist when needed.
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Grandpa's Story
The rich scent of freshly cut pine still lingers in memory as I held the flowerpot built with remnants of a joyful weekend spent with grandchildren constructing quirky birdhouses. Originally the wood was prepared, planing and sanding each piece into smooth, rounded shapes, and even pre-drilling the holes, making it a beginner-friendly endeavor for eager builders. Five of the nine delightful grandkids gathered, buzzing with anticipation, ready to unleash their creativity. Well, most of them. The oldest granddaughter, Anika, ten years old and with a discerning eye, initially viewed it as a 'little kid's project,' deeming herself far too mature for such frivolous fun. But the enthusiastic giggles of 7-year-old Evey, 5-year-old Ellie, and the mischievous 3-year-old twins, Conner and Dexter, proved irresistible.
At this point, observing the gleeful chaos, Anika, with a flicker of envy, sheepishly asked if she could make a birdhouse too. The request was happily obliged with a smile, and perhaps a small, knowing wink. Then a riot of leftover paint was splashed onto the wooden creations – sunny yellow, mossy green, earthy brown, and crisp white transformed each birdhouse into a vibrant masterpiece. Help was offered when asked, but artistic instincts were allowed to soar, which resulted in a unique and colorful collection. As the paint dried, the lawn was surveyed, now a canvas of yellow, green, brown, and white splotches, a small price to pay for such grand, messy fun, and then the birdhouses were sent off with the grandkids, ready for their new homes – whether perched by parents or installed by Grandpa on his next visit"