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Lesley brandishes the power drill.
I now know why these tools are called power drills. It's not because of the force with which they make holes in wood. It is, in fact, due to the feeling of power one gets from using such a nifty, effective and dangerous device. The last time I put up a shelf I used my grandad's old hand drill, which always wobbled in tiresome effort, leaving a heap of sawdust on the floor. This tool, on the other hand, produces a fine scattering of almost imperceptible dust in its split-second penetration of the wood. What was I doing? Briefly helping Ali construct our new bike shed - as we have no car we are going to rely on our recently serviced bicycles to get around. Given that the nearest town is 7 miles away, this should keep us fit. As soon as I had to relinquish the drill I got bored, went inside and left Ali to it.

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Ali screws the hinges on, without a power screwdriver - too bad.



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