Watching Peter work is a sight to behold. He's driven and focused on his art, and so single-minded that he reminds me of Tyler when he's programming. Like Tyler, he powers through the day with seemingly superhuman stamina, hardly remembering to eat food. Also like Tyler, he occasionally answers questions with a non sequitur, so focused is he with whatever problem he's tackling in his mind.

Right now, on the very last day of our extended timber framing course, as our time is dwindling away, I recognize the look on Peter's face, and the way he's dealing with the raising. I can tell he's exhausted (hell, we all are), but he's getting this job done with sheer brute force, like a bull charging through an obstacle. Right now, that means leading a very small crew in raising the final two grinds of our structure.

Once the grinds are up, there's no time to rest or celebrate. We're rapidly losing daylight, and we still have much work to do: it's time to place the wall plates. No longer is Peter the patient teacher, taking time to show us all what to do. Now, he's the master timber framer, scooting nimbly across beams high in the air, calibrating his bubble level faster than I could dream of, marking the wall plate, heaving it out of the way nearly by himself, and expertly wielding a chainsaw to make precise cuts in about ten seconds flat. When the final notches are made, he heaves the timber back into place. It fits perfectly, of course.