Technically it’s a lot of help from a lot of friends. A lot of family, too. We’ll talk about them all, but today’s spotlight is on a man with a very specific set of skills. Skills acquired over a very long career. Skills that make him a dream-come-true for people like us in a situation like this.

Clint Stapp can go from a hospital board meeting to deftly working his comedic chops at a raffle table during a homebrew competition. His number crunching skills are only rivaled by his mastery of culinary arts. He can climb a Jeep up the cliffs of the Moab desert as easily as he bikes to his neighborhood grocery store. But that’s not what we needed from him (well, the comedic chops bit came in handy since we were hot (we did most of the work in this post in late August), tired, and utterly worn out from this project – laughter is an exceptional salve). What we needed from Clint was his MIG welder and Darth Vader helmet. Several years ago Mark designed a bed and Clint welded it for us. His work is exceptional – just look at those smooth joints. We knew he was the person to help us with the balcony.

For the curious, that’s Emma Louise, the only dog I know that won’t get out of bed before 1pm.

But before we could call Clint into action, we had to do some prep work…

Painting the underside of the deck was far more painful and annoying than I expected. I hate painting ceilings – mostly because my arms are most comfortable at my sides or at the very most raising a cocktail glass to my lips – but the slats and nooks and crannies that make up the balcony put ceiling painting to shame. In my mind, this work was not so different from 15th century hang-a-prisoner-from-arm-shackles-above-his-head torture. There are no pictures of this work because other people were off on their own projects and I could not focus through the tears AND hold bags of ice on my shoulders. I’m not sure if he felt sorry for me or just wanted to shut me up, but Mark bought this brilliant tool and it made the work go so much faster:

image courtesy of amazon.com

A week’s worth of painting right there – pre-crevice tool.

By the time I finished my work, Clint (seen here with his lovely bride, Dana, whose eyes are too beautiful to photograph) was ready to start his.

photo courtesy of Dana Stapp

photo courtesy of Dana Stapp

First angle bracket permanently in place!

It was a long day for Clint, who was nursing an injured foot, but it was a great day for us. We ended up with the foundation for a remarkably safe and secure balcony railing and the added bonus of catching up with good friends we hadn’t seen in eons. We can’t thank you enough Mr. and Mrs. Stapp!

photo courtesy of Dana Stapp

After Clint finished his work, I picked up the paint brush again. Painting the steel around the balcony was a bit more comfortable than painting the underside, but it still had its issues. I won’t bore you with the details – instead, here’s a picture when I still had the semblance of a smile on my face.

Fast forward through the gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair to this:

It  looks so easy. Sigh…

Once I finished my work with the paint brush, Mark and his dad took over.

The levels got a workout.

My fear of heights got a workout too.

To tell the truth, my fear of heights is almost gone. I credit immersion therapy. And drinking (but NOT while you’re on a ladder!).

This part of the process was slow, but that’s just the way it should be – check, double-check, then check the bolts one more time.

They eventually made it all the way around the balcony, and then came the fun part…

…railing!

Then the not-so-fun part…tension cables.

Correction: Mark says it’s not that this part wasn’t fun, it was just tedious.

And voilà! The finished product!

Here are a few more shots because she’s so pretty and I like to show her off.

Now, instead of feeling the throes of vertigo when I step onto the balcony, I get the calm and comforting feeling of being in a playpen – but unlike a baby, I can hold a cocktail and watch the turtles from up there and fully appreciate how wonderful the thing on which I stand is. Also, a baby would never consider using “on which” so I’m definitely an adult. I feel I must make that clear because there were a lot of tears during the painting part of this project.

Up next (in a more timely manner, I hope) – the front door.