Regarding the connection to old tools:
My father passed 4 weeks ago, and before he died, I asked if I could have his set of planes. I was taught the use of them when he was building one of our houses when I was six years old, and still remember the thrill of watching that beautifully formed hardwood curl coming off of his well sharpened joiner plane, and the solid feel of his jack plane in my very small hands.
As he was a finish carpenter in those days, I was “apprenticed”(?) into the fine art of 3 and 4 piece base, casing and hanging a door, and finishing the jamb and stop. Of course, this was in the days before power miter saws, pneumatic nailers and screw guns, so I was also taught the use of the Miller’s Falls box and backed saw, a block plane, a brace and bit, a Yankee screw driver, and the reason for pre-drilling nail holes in very expensive finish components before nailing and setting...
Anyway, when I hold those finely made and cared for tools today, I hearken back to a time of wonder in education in the finer arts of construction, the beauty of a job worth doing-being done well, and the pure satisfaction in a young boy seeing his first pieces of a project done right and the pride in a father’s eyes as he watched it being done.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane, and while I didn’t get along with my dad very well later in life, when I handle those planes, and stone a razor sharp edge on the irons, it makes the bad experiences melt away to a simpler time...
Retirement is the time when you can choose your friends and companions- and they can choose you.
