I grew up in a time where you built everything by hand. There weren’t any kits for a walk in closet organizer. My father calculated out the whole closet and went to the old lumberyard and had the gentleman cut the lumber to his specifications.  From there we would go to the hardware store to buy screws and fasteners and other necessary equipment to complete the task. I was too young to understand what was going on but my father always treated me as if I were a man. My dad called me his “inside guy” but really I think I was just in the way.  Being the “inside guy” had its perks. I was allowed to hold the lumber while my dad drilled. I swear it felt as if this took all day. I guess when I think about it it really did.  We were at the lumberyard even before it opened.  My father had a list ready before we even got there. I still remember the smell of the lumber. It had rained the night before, and some of it was wet to the core.  You could smell all of the wet wood.  My father loved that I tried to help, he smiled at me a lot when I was asking questions.  He told my mother afterwards that I had been the main reason the project was completed. She smiled. Years later I asked him about it.  He still claims that he really did need my help that day.