Fold away your tent and move along
Several years back, while on a weekend wander through a local hardware emporium (stores had wonderful names in the good old days), we decided to change our lives. We took the plunge and added (wait for it)… a gazebo to our deck. A seasonal model, constructed for our climate. A metal frame, with a light, ventilated canvas covering, where we could dine in the summer evenings, our backs tickled by soft breezes, screened from the glances of jealous passersby.
Not exactly. What we received was a huge, heavy carton filled with dozens of metal bars that required hours of assembly. Over the top, a tentlike affair that was “excrutiatingly difficult” to stretch into place, attached by a Goldbergian mix of velcro, plastic and willpower. Still, our deck had a cover, and life was good. Except when it rained (the water tended to collect in huge pockets) or when the wind blew (most homes don’t require sails). Or a combination of both, which was even more challenging. The first season came and went.
During the year of the “Great Snows”, someone on a stroll with snowshoes managed to break a trail right over the top of the sleeping gazebo. Snow cover is rarely protective, and the frame of our gazebo developed some unplanned dips and bends (strangely similar in width to a snowshoe). Reinstalling the tent for a second season was an exercise in frustration, but we toughed it out. The deck was rarely used (much like our pool, but that’s for another day). At the end of the summer, we removed the tent for storage… in our waste disposal bin.
This last winter, the framework remained in place, providing a simple snow guage. This was an easy year,and the snow cover never reached a sufficient depth to hide the mocking bends and twists from view. But, snow melts. Today, a three-man team attacked the structure with a combination of vise grips and Allen key (one, which teaches patience and sharing). No hard hats (it would have been a useful thing to have, since we haven’t yet developed the awareness of where the others are in a confined space) but no serious injuries, either.
We carefully collected the nuts and bolts into a mixing bowl, and by early afternoon the piles of twisted aluminum and cheap steel were piled near the curb. Several marauders with pickup trucks have been circling in hopes of easy scavenge. Go for it.
