A/n: Hehehehehe, umm, yeah. I promise I'll get them all up today. Sorry, but I went to see Dark Knight last night after pointe, so yeah. It was great! Go see it if you haven't already. Why so serious? Omg that part was creepy. Heath did a great job, and I can see why he had trouble sleeping. It was creeeeeeeeepy. So um, here goes then.
'Sätta in ta parti mot någon EN av plank k in i hacken f på plank b . . .' What the he is a hacken? Or a Sätta? Or the rest of it?
Edward and his family had gone away hunting for the weekend, and he had left me this box of wood with directions on how to build a birdhouse. It was supposed to be done upon his return, so I sat down at Charlie's table and dumped out the planks. It should be simple, right? Any human being 10 through 100 (as the box said) should be able to put it together.
But the box didn't mention that you had to be bilingual.
For some odd reason, I got one page of instructions in English, and one page in Swedish. The first was the English one, so so far I had managed to make the triangle shaped roof; now I was lost.
But I didn't want to disappoint Edward. I know he wouldn't mind if I didn't finish it, but he gave it to me so I would have something to do while he was gone. And, I felt bad for the homeless birds. Corny, I know, but the world was going downhill enough on its own, without the homeless birds.
I tried reading the Swedish for a few more minutes, but soon gave up. Why did Sweden have to be so different from the US? I mean, their fish look the same . . .
Hmm, maybe if I just . . . I grabbed two planks of wood and shoved them together, forming what I thought to be a 90 degree angle. Then I grabbed the nails and a hammer and hammered in a nail on each side; nearly hitting my fingers numerous times.
Then I struck on another piece, attaching it the same way.
I tried to put on the last piece, but it was too long. I must've gotten the angles off . . .
I sighed and threw the rotten thing over my shoulder, hearing it clannk on the ground noisily. On a spur of the moment decision, I stood up and walked to the porch, looking for that old wooden box.
The box was supposed to be storage, so the top came off; and you could sit on it as well. I grabbed it, brushing off some of the dirt that had settled there. The handles were just two holes on the sides.
Perfect.
I went back to the table and sat down, taking the lid off of the old box and throwing it on the ground as I did so. I picked up my birdhouse topper and set that on the base instead. A perfect fit.
I took my masterpiece outside and set it on the low branch of my favorite tree, adjusting it a little so it balanced correctly. Then I stood back and marveled at my creation.
Sure, it didn't look like the box said it would, but I had made it. With my own hands, and no injuries.
I turned around to go back into the house; Charlie would be home soon and I needed to make dinner. After I took two steps, I felt myself tripping over a root.
Oh well, I guess you can't have everything.
Hehe, just a cutsie idea. Like all of them. The next is sort of limey, so yeah . . . Edward lets go a little bit. It'll be up soon:
Kanapapa
