{"id":31693,"date":"2020-09-03T00:01:02","date_gmt":"2020-09-03T07:01:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/barbarafalconernewhall.com\/?p=31693"},"modified":"2020-09-03T00:01:02","modified_gmt":"2020-09-03T07:01:02","slug":"working-with-their-hands","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/working-with-their-hands\/","title":{"rendered":"Watching People Working With Their Hands — Why Am I So Fascinated? Sheltering in Place Week 25"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"working<\/a>
The rebar laid, our new patio awaited the concrete pour. Photos by Barbara Newhall<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

September 2, 2020. Sheltering at Home Week 25<\/strong><\/p>\n

In Bologna they call them the umarells — the little men. They are the old men who hang around construction sites for hours on end, watching other people working with their hands.<\/p>\n

I’m not an old man, but I’m definitely an umarell — umarella? — and I’ve been one since before I was old, since way back in my New York City days, when I was a twenty-something office worker on her lunch break.<\/p>\n

Just Me and the Men in Business Suits<\/strong><\/h5>\n

Manhattan contractors often cut window holes in the fencing around their building sites, which meant that white collar folks like me — mostly men in business suits — could follow the action.<\/p>\n

The action. That’s what draws me into a construction site. Something is happening. Something visible, plausible, tangible, touchable.<\/p>\n

\"working<\/a>
The pour was fast and organized. Five workers directed, spread and leveled the onslaught of concrete flowing from the hose.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In my umarell’s imagination, it’s got to be super satisfying work for the people who have spent years getting good at it:<\/p>\n