The mason mixer was a drum on a stand with a motor. The drum spun and the paddles inside the drum mixed the mortar. You shoveled sand and cement and lime into the drum and added water and the drum turned and the paddles folded the materials together. The mixer took three minutes to make a batch. The hand-mixed batch took fifteen minutes with a hoe in a trough. The mixer was the first machine the mason trusted because the mixer did the one thing the mason hated doing. Mixing mortar by hand was the worst job on the site.

The mixer sat in the yard. Next to the sand pile. Next to the cement bags. Next to the water hose. The mixer was the center of the operation. Everything came to the mixer and everything left the mixer. The sand came from the pile. The cement came from the bag. The water came from the hose. The mortar left in the wheelbarrow. The mixer was the kitchen. The mortar was the meal. The mason was the customer. The mixer cooked all day.

The consistency was the skill. Too much water and the mortar was soup. Too little water and the mortar was sand. The mixer operator added water by feel. A splash. A trickle. The mixer operator watched the mortar turn in the drum and knew the consistency by the way the mortar folded. Stiff mortar folded slow. Wet mortar folded fast. The fold was the tell. The mixer operator read the fold the way a baker reads dough. The baker knows the bread is ready by the feel. The mixer operator knows the mortar is ready by the fold.

The mixer was loud. The diesel engine and the spinning drum and the paddles scraping the sides. The mixer was the loudest tool on the site except the concrete saw. The mason shouted over the mixer. The laborer shouted over the mixer. Nobody could have a quiet conversation next to the mixer. The mixer created a zone of noise around itself and the zone was ten feet wide. Inside the zone was work. Outside the zone was conversation. The mixer drew the line between working and talking.

They use volumetric mixers now. A truck with compartments that measure the sand and cement and water automatically. The truck mixes the mortar on site and dispenses it through a chute. The truck replaces the mixer and the sand pile and the cement bags and the water hose and the mixer operator. The truck replaces six things with one thing. The one thing is more efficient. The six things employed more people. The mixer operator had a skill. The truck has a button. The skill took years to learn. The button takes a day. The mortar does not know the difference. The mixer operator does.

See also: Trowel, Mortarboard