I was wondering where the cotter pin was!
My grandpa was a farmer/carpenter by trade who spent his life in strife against economics of the times.
He was an extremely intelligent person who was far thinking in many respects. He died in 1955 when I was a boy after a hard life where he lost his wife early and had four children to house, feed and clothe. In his later years near his end it was particularly hard because that ingrown toenail he went to see a doctor about developed into full blown gangrene and cost him his leg above the knee.
All that said, his shop out behind the house I lived in during my early years with no water or plumbing, was a treasure trove of wonder. Piled high with oak planks, machines and contraptions a boy could only marvel at. The kind of belt-driven machines powered by some old engine he pulled out of a car. Mechanical galore.
That shop stayed as it was the day he died until 1971 when my mom moved back when dad died in 1971 and I was overseas and came home to bury him. Soon after when I was back on station, she built a house where that shop stood. The contractor took the whole damn thing, and only the two stall barn remained. The day I found out about it was one of the saddest days of my life. I only have an Illinois pocket watch, a 100 year old 100 lb bench vise, and a fold up 6 ft ruler (which the same company makes today BTW).
What I wouldn’t give to be able to rummage through that shop today.
I’m sure when I pass my kids will throw most of my crap away. They’ll probably sell the guns, though.
This smacks a lot like OCD.
I think this and a few more totally ridiculous displays is what made me say good bye to Glassel.
I'll tell you another one! A girl picked up some dead tree branches, propped them up in a gallery and hung rubber chickens from them. That's Art ya’ll! I think this is why I quit Glassel! I'll bet both of those folks are waiting tables now.
Hes got way to much spare time on his hands.
BFL
My late father-in-law saved EVERYTHING. Every calendar he ever had (in case those years came back again). Thousands of old rusty tools (and hundreds still in the hardware store shrink-wrapped, unopened and covered with dirt). Old cat litter. Buckets of old granular material (never did figure-out what some were). Unidentifiable objects. Bottles of 19th century hardware. Very old newspapers (see “calendars”, above), bundled and covered with dirt. One cellar light that worked (an old bulb hanging from a 1920s horse hair covered wire). Unopened bags of cement long gone to solid stone. Hundreds of vases and bottles, all covered in dirt. Empty burlap bags. He died, by the way, sitting up while eating breakfast. Found him that way.
(....and I must say I think it'll look pretty good...as well as being an interesting conversation piece).
Leni
