Sunday, November 9, 2014

You take the old

I have heard it been said that most things are made to break, not be able to be repaired, tossed out, and new bought.  Well, this is really not that good for me because I have the "black finger of death".  I kill everything, I am equal opportunity killer, from electronics to shovels to plants.  Nothing is beyond my periphery, if I can touch it....  So in this modern world of disposable devices and me with my curse, the deck is stacked.  There is hope though, a bright shining light that comes through for most everything, Andrew fixes, he fixes everything I break, except for my truck's radio, I had help with that, Country Music, it's broken beyond repair.  Everything else does stand a chance, because he follows me, fixing all that I break.  Our son has his gift of repair.


A few years back, the Discovery Channel was doing a special on the builder, Jesse James, and he had said that handmade items were a dying art, especially in metalwork.  Metal gas tanks, fenders, and oil tanks were machine stamped and welded.  He purchased an English Wheel, he taught himself how to roll and form his items, making things one of a kind.  Jesse said that it gave him self satisfaction.  I can understand that.  When Andrew fixes things that I break, I can see that he too gets satisfaction out of a job well done. 

While we were out on our last adventure to Delaware, we were able to purchase two copper mixing bowls from the manufacturer for a fourth of the price because they has dents in them.  Andrew told me not to worry that he would make them perfect for me, what more can one ask for and I was not even remotely guilty for the damage, just saying....

Of course there were pictures.  While he was working his magic on the bowls, I had to have a funny quip, because that is what I do.  Andrew is most ingenious, he was getting the dents out with.....a bocce ball...yes, a bocce ball.  Jesse James may have his English Wheel, Andrew has his Bocce Ball.










 With the dents rolled out, Andrew finished up his cigar, putzed around for a bit.  We washed up the bowls and then he polished them up to get all the fingerprints off.  That's when he got a little carried away and I was so very glad to help, I brought over to him the two  copper pots and copper core pots we have, just so everything was done.  I reached up, gave him Mor's copper whisk. 


Some might say that it is not a very exciting way to spend a Saturday night, but there is truly nothing that I would rather be doing, and besides all the shelves have liners.



you make it new, we'll be all right

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