or “Am I Showing Off or Sharing?”
I recently heard of a piece of research which concluded that the use of social media such as Facebook and Twitter leads to narcissism. Hmm, I thought, it makes sense and I got to thinking about my Blog and whether all the writing I am doing is narcissistic. So the question becomes: am I showing off or sharing? I like to think sharing. When I get excited about something I think others should share that excitement and ever since I can remember loved to entertain. As a child I had to be very careful. In our family, amusing people was admissible but showing off was scorned. As a kid it was sometimes hard to tell which was which. It could take a long time for someone to notice the pin-holder you had made from an old Noxema jar, white paint and macaroni (though not so long to notice the white paint splats on the kitchen table or your pants) if you didn’t speak up and say “look what I made”. And when was being proud of something being too proud? So all that said, I am very proud of the bench I made at the second class of Women and Woodworking I attended at Lee Valley a couple of weekends ago and I need to share that excitement but I will pretend that I am just promoting the class and recommending Roslyn’s tutelage so that I won’t be accused of showing off.
Over the course of two days we took a length of laminated pine and made a hallway bench – just the place to park my carcass when putting my boots on or to keep my deerskin slippers out of the boot-slush (though since I started the Wii I can stand on one foot to put my shoes on again). As with the first class I took, the instruction was exemplary. Camaraderie and concentration ruled the day and there wasn’t a single catastrophe though learning to cut the five degree angles for the legs offered plenty of opportunity.
When I look at my finished bench I see all of the little imperfections which I had planned to hide with wood filler and paint. I guess I’ll just have to put that side to the wall because now I am leaning towards a natural finish. I will see how long I can go without saying “look what I made!” Unless, of course, someone were to ask “Where did you get that bench?” and then I could safely say “Aw shucks, I made it myself.” “With power tools.” “Just look, I still have all my fingers” (Thanks to Roslyn who had to scold me not once, but twice, for putting my fingers in the path of the chisel – I am my father’s girl in many ways but hopefully never in finger count; he lost one to a table saw).
Oh, and Rosalyn or Jay, whoever did the tool count at the end of class, I really didn’t mean to steal the tape measure and I returned it to the store the next day. Lee Valley rocks.
(c) Judy Parsons 2013
I am green with envy!! I am so impressed with your wordworking skills…this is so nice…will look so nice next to the kitchen door in Milton. Maybe I could get you to plan and build my new house? Beautiful painter, writer, actress, seamstress, gardener, baker (can’t forget those delicious hot cross buns), finished carpenter…my talented baby sister!!
Thanks for the accolades big sis, it means a lot coming from you, who is so smart and so creative. I was never more impressed than when you used to create your own crossword puzzles. Designing a new house would be a daunting task but oh so much fun. I would have to have a wood/electric cookstove, a daybed in the kitchen with a hand-crank sewing machine behind the door, a rocking chair by the window and definitely a radio shelf. Hmmm, guess whose house I would try and recreate. I still love the yellow colour of Granny’s kitchen but only just realized that it probably wasn’t the colour of the paint but was old tobacco smoke stain. Oh, and don’t forget the little nook under any stairs for the grandchildren to go and read their books. Anyhow, you probably have no idea how inspiring you and June were for me; you creative-wise and June more in the athletic realm.
You have brought back so many lovely memories of Granny and quiet, smiling Grandfather who so loved his “Orange Crush”… two bowls of brown and white eggs in the back room…sitting on the bridge on hot, hot summer days with the sun’s rays glistening of the salt water…bergy bits going by…a motor boat putt-putting home after dark…climbing over the rocks to pick bluebells which always seemed to be out of reach of little hands…delicious Jigg’s dinners and using Granny’s special fork, the sparkling water from the spring in the hillside…Granny sitting napping in her rocking chair, lighting the oil lamps at dusk…knitting needles clicking…cups of cakey tea with Granny…such a peaceful existence there on the rock…all gone now…….
So many memories indeed. I recall picking those bluebells and then installing a bloom on each finger like a fairy’s hat and then making my fingers do a little play. I also picked blackberries (Crowberries to non-Newfs) on the same rocks and Mom would bake them into a little cake or put them in a pudding. I could write a book on “The Point”. I have a blog on Granny’s fork coming up soon. That back bridge got as hot as the deep south in the summer sun. Remember the day someone dropped a wad of orange gum on the boards and then someone stepped in it? Simple happy times.
Great job Judy. Only wish there was somewhere here that you could do things like that. I often wondered how your dad lost his finger and after all these years now I know. Thanks for the bling ring. It arrived all in tact.