I am
a simple man
I live
a simple life
I smooth
my own way
I can smooth
your way
I do not
adorn
at all
no
a plain life
is all I need
a plain
life –
all
anybody
needs
~
Poem #37 from a series of poems heard while on a visit to a second hand goods market and gathered together as: Voices in the Trash (and the Treasure).
Back to Voices in the Trash (and the Treas
Love those old tools. I have a beautiful axe that was my grandfathers–hand-forged.
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Fantastic, Judy. My wife and I are pretty keen on the old tools, as well. Character filled.
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I’ll take a photo of it. I also have several antique flatirons I use as doorstops. Just had one come in handy. I heard all the dogs in the neighborhood barking (it was midnight here) and thought I heard a cat cry. I immediately thought of Kukla, who has been missing, thinking she had tried to come home and been attacked by dogs. I looked for a weapon, grabbed a flatiron, unlocked the gate to the street and went charging out in my night gown. One of the cats did come running by on the wall but all was quiet in the street. I still don’t know whether it was Kukla or Frannie. They look almost exactly alike except one has a bit darker black markings on her face. After 15 months, I still can’t tell them apart unless they are together. I thought afterwards, I could have seized the axe as well. It is without handle and I use it to wedge open the door when guests are coming.
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Crkey, Judy.
Getting donged by an antique flatiron is probably just as effective as getting donged by a modern one, if not more.
They really DO hold their value …
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I think it has greater efficiency as a weapon. More weight per inch, better handhold. Then imagine me with that axe!
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Woo hoo!!
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It’s funny how simple some things need to be to work. If it wasn’t for the split down the middle that would probably work as well now as it did in its day. I love old tools.
I’ve got a hand made tenon saw here which my Great Grandfather made it as a part of his apprenticeship which he started in 1914. I can only imagine what an apprentice would say these days if they were told they had to make their tools before they could start work.
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The old tools have a voice, I think. They are a time and an experience that has passed us by to the point where it’s hard to recognise what they did and what the people that used them did. I like them.
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You’re right about that. My dad knows most of the tools that we found in my grand fathers place but some of them were the sort of thing I didn’t recognise. But even the ones I did had a story I couldn’t even make up…if only we knew them.
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Too true. At least we have and know some of them.
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