Speaking for myself, I find that the aroma of the shop takes me back
home faster than anything else.
I first helped my Dad by being stationed at the outfeed table of a
tool we don't mention. He took woodworking classes at the Bucks County
Community College, and his teacher clued him in to an estate sale, so
he got an old but servicable tool that had years of use in the hands
of an experienced woodworker.
I recently took that tool to a construction site 300 miles away,
where I'm using it to custom-fit cabinets, and it's still giving me
excellent service.
Every time I use it, I remember.
Gary Katsanis
Albion New York, USA
(where we've had an early snowcover for weeks)
-----------------------------------------From: "Thomas Johnson"
To: "Tools Old"
Cc:
Sent: Thursday December 5 2019 8:25:32PM
Subject: [OldTools] Shop tales and a WTB
Greetings fellow Porch sitters ...
This morning I got up with nothing important on my to-do list so I
took
coffee to the shop and re-handled a boys axe ... repaired a bar stool
for a
friend ... still had time so there was a POS Type 19 5c on the shelf
that I
had picked up long ago that was rusty, crusty and needing a LOT of
TLC. SO
... I decided to tear into it ....Scraped, sanded, andwire wheeled
the
BeJeezuz out of it and polished and oiled and buffed and, hmmm, this
might
be worth staying with it. The blade and chip-breaker were covered
with a
thick rust bloom, but when it was de-rusted, *no pitting*! The tote
had a
chunk busted out of it near the top so - off to the attic where I
keep my
treasure trove of Brazilian rosewood scraps.
Thats when things started getting good. Anyone who has had the
pleasure
knows that the aroma of rosewood is like a mood-altering drug .. Now
things were getting a little zen-ish ... I was "in the zone", "lovin
every
minute of it" ... getting stuff done ... aware that I was wearing a
smile,
and then, I realized that this is the 50th anniversary of my Dad's
death.
I was 23 when he succumbed to lymphoma
As a small boy, I would sit on the floor of his shop and make things
out of
the scraps that feel to the floor ... I would take his Yankee drill
and
just drill holes by the dozens because it was so amazing and so fun
to do.
I watched him turning spiral lamp stands ... carving ships with a
draw
knife and a little carving set. We were poor so he made furniture for
the
house of of discarded furniture he salvaged from the city dump. Of
course
back then it was all good hardwood. Later, as a teen I helped him
build a
pickup camper .. then to work construction with an uncle before
heading
off to college.
Those shop smells. The smell of pine takes me back to my dads shop
and to
a host of priceless memories. He had an 8th grade education but he
was
gifted with his hands.
Those shop smells. It started today with the rosewood, and the shop
smelled like it did long ago when I made a silverware chest out of
rosewood
for my daughter's wedding present. Good memories.
Then ... the smell of wire-wheeled rust ... WD-40 ... carnuba wax ...
spray lacquer and all the dozens and dozens of hand planes I restored
and
sold 20 years ago.
But it turned into a day with Dad in the shop ... still smiling as I
write
this ....
And now, a beer and a book .... perfect end to a very very good day.
Oh ... the WTB... Anyone have a 2 3/8" screw for a front knob? and
the
brass nut?
Anyone else has shop tales that were triggered by aromas?
Peace out good friends.
Tom
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