Saturday, November 11, 2006


is down right killing me tonight. I just got done with work, where between selling people snowboards and treadmills, and selling another of the items no one thought the store would sell (this time it was the "roboboxer"), I was stuck sharpening skates. I think, all totaled, I sharpened around 30 pairs of skates.

to sharpen a skate, you have to clamp it into a holder, level it, and then drag the blade over a spinning grinding wheel, over and over. That part is not so bad. In fact, I like that part. It feels good to do a good job, and have hockey players that have been skating all their lives tell me I did the best sharpening ever, seeing as I have never played hockey, and have only been ice skating a few times when I was 5.

No, the part that makes me curse the gods who invented skates and decided they needed to be sharp is the position of the grinding stones. They were made for someone about 5'5" to use. I am 6". That means I am bent over this worktable all day, focusing all my energy into a blade, and leaning into the work as a result.

And so I ache. And whine.

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