Securing the Steel Trowel

A steel hand trowel had slid halfway off a wooden workbench near the garden shed threshold, its polished scoop hanging out into empty air. The tool was pivoting on its curved neck with every slight gust through the open door. I moved in without hesitation. Stepping from the gravel onto the smooth concrete slab, I planted my boots firmly before the bench leg. I took the varnished ash handle in both hands, feeling its cool, dense leverage. With a steady, deliberate heave, I hoisted the blade inward and slid it flush against the heavy iron vise. The wobble ceased. The edge is secure.