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Illustration by Catherine Chan
It dawned on me one day that I was in deck installation boot camp for seniors.
My legs were sore and fatigued after three consecutive days of kneeling and getting back up. The bruises and cuts from where the crowbar whipped back violently into my right thigh while pulling out old deck nails were still slowly healing. My back did not love the 20 trips I’d made in 30 C heat carrying 12-foot composite boards from my garage to the backyard. It was even worse the week before moving heavier beams.
This past summer, at age 68, I worked on my first big outdoor project with my retired handyman friend Jeff, who agreed to install new boards on my backyard deck.
The 800 square foot wooden sundeck was installed before I moved in 19 years ago. I was tired of the sagging in spots, plus the sanding and staining required each year. Most contractors I reached out to wanted to get rid of the entire deck, including the foundation. The super expensive quotes shocked me, despite opting for the most affordable wood.
Jeff felt bad for me after seeing the quotes. We’ve known each other for 49 years and he’s done deck work before so agreed to take a look. When he pried up a couple of boards, he realized the old joists and beams underneath were still in good shape. He decided he could install the new boards at a huge savings to me if I paid him for his labour, bought the materials and helped out a bit. I immediately start humming That’s What Friends are For.
I hired an affordable disposal firm to rip up and haul away the old deck boards, pergola and broken hot tub. Then started hanging out at the Home Depot “Pro” desk, where contractors order and buy material. I began strutting around one inch taller than usual after we ordered a ton of boards and carted out beams and joists to shore up the foundation.
I got wide-eyed gazing at the eight-inch spikes Jeff bought to connect the new joists to the new beams. They were big enough to dispatch any vampires we might come across. I also learned to pick up a few of those long, skinny paint stir sticks because they come in handy as wood “shims” (my favourite new word) to fill in tiny gaps between the old beams and joists to minimize the bouncing.
Since Jeff lives over an hour away, my wife and I invited him to stay over a few nights a week during construction. It looks like the Marines had landed when he arrived with his tools, which included four different saws, drills and various crowbars. Jeff loves the same 1960s and ‘70s music that I do so these tunes were played on an endless loop. And we watched “guy” movies each evening after dinner. “I love the smell of sawdust in the morning … it smells like victory!,” I cried out one morning while Jeff was sawing boards.
My wife was nervous because she had seen me hammer my thumb countless times. My many self-inflicted kitchen knife cuts over the years had her on edge. She made us breakfast and left to play golf so she didn’t have to witness any carnage.
My wife would have been impressed with my balancing act though. I had to apply joist tape to extend the life of the old beams and I got really good at walking across them. The joists are spaced 16-inches apart a couple of feet above the ground. This mini high-wire act was good balance training for seniors.
My proficiency surprises Jeff, too. And amazingly, I didn’t cut myself with the knife. I’m not in contractor shape like Jeff who is strong from a lifetime of working on projects but my physiotherapist is a fan of my DIY efforts.
The DIY project was punishing but quite rewarding. I enjoyed having a front-row seat to watch Jeff’s impressive planning and technical skills as he designed the deck. He also solved all the issues that popped up, including some boards that were even more warped than me. Jeff was also patient when I bombarded him with process questions. But the best part was the fantastic bonding we did at this later stage in our lives. We’ve never had so much quality time together. I’m definitely inviting Jeff over next spring to have a couple of drinks on the new deck so we can admire his work.
Jeff is a hit with my neighbours, too. People are eager to find a reliable handyman for small jobs that wouldn’t be big enough for most contractors. Jeff isn’t amused when I volunteer to be his agent. Evidently, that’s not what are friends are for.
Steve Watson lives in Markham, Ont.